
Class ri:iKft!ia 
Book. .T 'I. 



CQFmiGHT DEPosrr. 



rig 



THE TRUTH 






;Thg^><^o 



The Truth 



A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS 



By 
CLYDE FITCH 



# 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
NEPF rORK M CM VII 

LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. 



Two Gooies Received 
JUN 5 190r 

/I Copynyht C«try 
^LASS >9 ac. No. 
COPY B. 



-N 



Copyright, 1907, ^f^J 

By the MACMILLAN COMPANY. \ >\ '^ 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. " /V ^ 



Set up and electrotyped. Published June, 1907. 



All acting rights, both professional and amateur, are reserved by Clyde 
Fitch. Performances forbidden and right of representation reserved. 
Application for the right of performing this piece must be made to The 
Macmillan Company. Any piracy or infringement will be prosecuted 
in accordance with the penalties provided by the United States Stat- 
utes: — 

"Sec. 4966. — Any person publicly performing or representing any 
dramatic or musical composition, for which copyright has been obtained, 
without the consent of the proprietor of the said dramatic or musical 
composition, or his heirs or assigns, shall be liable for damages therefor, 
such damages in all cases to be assessed at such sum, not less than one 
hundred dollars for the first and fifty dollars for every subsequent per- 
formance, as to the Court shall appear to be just. If the unlawful per- 
formance and representation be wilful and for profit, such person or 
persons shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon conviction be im- 
prisoned for a period not exceeding one year." — U. S, Revised 
Statutes, Title 60, Chap. 3. 



Korbjooti i3rp3S 

J. S. Gushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. 

Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 



TO 
MARIE TEMPEST 

WITH GRATEFUL ADMIRATION FOR 

HER TRIUMPHANT BECKY ON 

APRIL 6, 1907 

C. F. 



THE TRUTH 



ACT I. At the Warders', New York 
Thursday Afternoon, 

ACT II. At the Warders*. 

Saturday Afternoon, just after lunch. 

ACT III. At Stephen Roland's, Baltimore. 
Saturday Night. 

ACT IV. At Stephen Roland's. 
Monday Morning. 



Vll 



THE PERSONS IN THE PLAY 



Warder. 
Roland. 

LiNDON. 

Servant at the Warders'. 

BeckV Warder. 

Eve Ltndon. 

Laura Fraser. 

Mrs. Genevieve Crespigny. 

Messenger Boy, 



Produced in Cleveland, Ohio, October, 1906, 
and later played at The Criterion and Lyceum 
Theatres, New York, with the following cast ; — 

Warder William J. Kelly 

*Roland J. E. Dodson 

Lindon George Spink 

Servant at the Warders' Hodgson Taylor 

Becky Warder Clara Bloodgood 

Eve Lindon Mrs. Sam Sothern 

Laura Eraser Elene Eraser 

Mrs. Genevieve Crespigny Zelda Sears 

Messenger Boy Erederick Harrison 



* Played in New York by William B. Mack, and also by John 
Emerson. 



Produced at the Comedy Theatre, London, 
April 6, 1907, with the following cast: — 

Warder Allan Aynesworth 

Roland Dion Boucicault 

Lindon Dawson Milward 

Servant at the Warders' Ilorton Cooper 

Becky Warder Marie Tempest 

Eve Lindon Grace Lane 

Laura Fraser Sybil Carlisle 

Mrs. Genevieve Crespigny Rosina Filippi 

Messenger Boy Donald Calthrop 



ACT I 

At Mrs. Warder's. An extremely attractive 
room, in the best of taste, gray walls with dull 
soft green mouldings, old French chintz curtains, 
furniture painted to match the walls and covered 
with the same chintz. Some old colored engrav- 
ings are on the mantel shelf and a couple of 
eighteenth-century French portraits on the wall. 
On the Left is a mantel, and near it a large writ- 
ing table against the back of a low sofa which 
faces the audience; on the table a telephone; an 
arm-chair and a small table on the Left; a Baby 
Grand piano in the upper left corner of the room. 
Some consols and tables in the room; four 
windows at the back, through which one sees the 

B I 



2 THE TRUTH 

park. Doors, Right and Lejt; hooks, photo- 
graphs, flowers, etc., on the tables and consols. 

A smart, good-looking man-servant, Jenks, shows 
in Mrs. Lindon and Laura Fraser. The 
former is a handsome, nervous, overstrung 
woman of about thirty-four, very fashionably 
dressed; Miss Fraser, on the contrary, a 
matter-of-fact, rather commonplace type of good 
humor — wholesomeness united to a kind sense 
of htcmor. Mrs. Lindon is the sort of woman 
warranted to put any one on edge in the course 
of a few hours' consecutive association, while 
friction with Miss Fraser is equally certain 
to smooth down the raw edges. 

Mrs. Lindon. [Coming in to a chair near the 
Centre with quick determination. 1 You have no 
idea when Mrs. Warder will be in? 

Servant. No, madam. 



THE TRUTH 3 

Mrs. Lindon. She was lunching out? 
Servant. Yes, madam. 

Laura. \With a movement to go.'] Come ! 
She may be playing bridge and not come home 
for hours. 

Mrs. Lindon. \Firm, though irritable.] I will 
wait till half -past five. [To Servant.] If Mrs. 
Warder comes in before that, we will be here. 
[Nervously picks up check-book from the writ- 
ing-table, looks at it but not in it, and puts it 
down. 
Servant. Very good, madam. 

[Goes out Left. 
Laura. [Goes to Eve.] My dear, you must 
control yourself. That man, if he has half a 
servant's curiosity, could easily see you are ex- 
cited. 
Mrs. Lindon. Yes, but think! She's been 



4 THE TRUTH 

meeting Fred probably every day for the last 
two months, although she knew I had left his 
house, and always pretended to me she never 
saw him ! 

[Sitting beside the writing-table. 

Laura. [Sitting Lejt.] You shouldn't have 
come here at once. You should have waited 
till you had time to think over your information 
and calm yourself a little. 

Mrs. Lindon. I couldn't wait! Becky! One 
of my oldest friends! One of my bridesmaids! 

Laura. WHiat! 

Mrs. Lindon. No, she wasn't, but she might 
have been; she was my next choice if any one 
had backed out. 

Laura. Probably Fred's appealing to her 
sympathy, — you know your own husband ! 

Mrs. Lindon. [With a disagreeable half -laugh.] 



THE TRUTH 5 

Yes, I know him better than she does! What 
I don't like is her secrecy about it after I'd made 
her the confidante of my trouble! 

Laura. I thought / was that? 

Mrs. Lindon. You are — another ! But you 
mustn't forget that I have gone to Becky in hys- 
terics and begged her to make it up for me with 
Fred. 

Laura. Were you perfectly frank with her? 

Mrs. Lindon. Perfectly ! I told her the truth, 
and more too! I told her I loved Fred in spite 
of his faults — Good Heavens ! if a woman had 
to find a jauUless man to love ! — I've asked her 
advice. 

[Rising nervously and going to the sofa. 

Laura. You haven't taken it! 

Mrs. Lindon. That doesn't make any differ- 
ence ! Who ever does? [Sitting on the sofa.] She 



6 THE TRUTH 

owed me her loyalty instead of flirting with Fred 

behind my back. 

\S}ie opens the cigar box on the writing-table 
behind her and then bangs it shut. 

Laura. Perhaps she's really trying to make 
peace between you in her own way! 

Mrs. Lindon. Does it look like it? Actually 
telling me yesterday she wouldn't trust herself 
in his presence for fear she'd lose her control and 
tell him what she thought of him ! — and all the 
time she had an appointment to meet him this 
afternoon — in the Eden Musee, if you please ! 

Laura. \With comic disgust.] Oh! Horrors! 

Mrs. Lindon. Yes, in the chamber of them! 
If that isn't compromising! 

Laura. Eve! 

Mrs. Lindon. And Tom Warder so nice! 
Everybody likes him I 



THE TRUTH 7 

[Picks Up stamp box and bangs it down. 

Laura. Including Becky. That's the point. 
Becky loves her own husband. What does she 
want of yours? 

Mrs. Lindon. She loved Tom Warder when 
she married him, but that was in 1903 ! Besides, 
Becky always liked having men fond of her whether 
she cared for them or not. 

Laura. Nonsense ! 

Mrs. Lindon. She's what the French call an 
''allumeuse" — leads them on till they lose their 
heads, then she gets frightened and feels in- 
sulted ! 

Laura. But you claim she does care for Fred ! 

Mrs. Lindon. My dear, a magnetic man like 
Fred has a way of winding himself around a 
woman and keeping himself wound as long as 
he wishes ! even when she doesnH wish, — look 



8 THE TRUTH 

at me! I'd give anything to throw him off for 
good, but I can't stop being in love with him I 

Laura. \W}io has moved over to the chair 
beside the soja, pats Eve's hand.] Poor old Eve! 
Well, when she comes, what are you going to do? 

Mrs. Lindon. Give her one more chance to 
tell me the truth! I'll ask her outright when 
she saw Fred last. 

Laura, But if she keeps on with her *' bluff" 
of not seeing him, you can't tell her she lies with- 
out making a horrid scene, and what good would 
that do? 

Mrs. Lindon. Exactly 1 She'd never acknowl- 
edge she was lying but just go on ! I may appeal 
to Tom Warder himself! 

[Rises and goes to mantel, looking at the -fly-leaves 
of two books on a table which she passes, 

Laura. No! 



THE TRUTH 9 

Mrs. Lindon. Why not? We've been friends 
since babies. 

Laura. You wouldnHt 

Mrs. Lindon. I don't accuse Becky of any- 
thing dreadful! Besides, it will be for his good 
too, as well as mine, — he knows Fred, and I'll 
wager anything he'll be as eager as I to stop any 
excess of friendship with him. [Goes up to the 
window.] Sh! here she is! and a man with 
her! 

Laura. [Rises, excited, and joins her.] Who? 

Mrs. Lindon. [Going to the other window.] 
I can't see. 

Laura. [Joining her at the second window.] 
Suppose it should be — 

Mrs. Lindon. Exactly ! If she hears I'm here, 
she'll never let him in. [She starts with a new 
idea and goes to the door Right.] The window in 



lO THE TRUTH 

that hall juts out; perhaps we can see the front 

door from there. Come quickly! 

{Tries to pull Laura out Right, 
Laura. I don't approve of what you're doing 
at all. 
Mrs. Lindon. Oh, come! 

[They go out and close the door behind them, 
[The Servant shows in Becky and Lindon, 
Lejl. Becky is a pretty, charming, volatile 
young woman, sprightly, vivacious, lovable. 
She is dressed ultra smartly, and in the best 
of taste. Lindon is dapper, rather good- 
looking, though not particularly strong in 
character, and full of a certain personal charm. 
He also wears very fashionable clothes. He 
is a man whose chief aim in life is to amuse 
himself. 
Servant. Mrs. Lindon and Miss Fraser were 



THE TRUTH \\ 

waiting to see you, madam; they must have 
gone. 

Becky. \Wiih a humorous raising of the eye- 
brows and a look to Lindon.] Oh ! — I'm so sorry ! 

[The Servant goes out. 

Lindon. Gee ! what a narrow escape. 

Laura. [Off stage Right, pleading loudly.] 
Eve 1 Eve ! ! Come ! ! ! 

Mrs. Lindon. [Off stage Right, loudly.] I will 
not. I will run my own affairs my own way. 

Becky. [Who has heard this, with an amused, 
mischievous expression.] They are there! Do 
you suppose they saw you? 

[They lower their voices slightly. 

Lindon. Well, — Eve can see through most 
things, but not through the walls ! Good-by. 

[He starts to hurry out, but Becky stops him. 

Becky. You must come back! That's what I 



12 THE TRUTH 

brought you home with me to-day for — to talk 
about Eve. This estrangement has gone on long 
enough. I've come to the conclusion you're as 
much to blame as she is, — or more. 

LiNDON. I like thai from you! 

Becky. I mean it, and if she wants you back, 
you've got to go. 

LiNDON. Well, let me get a cocktail first. 

Becky. I'm serious. 

LiNDON. So'll I be if Eve comes in and catches 

me. 

\Going. 

Becky. [Going with him.] I'll let you out — 
but I expect you here again in half an hour. Do 
you understand? [They go out Left. Off stage.] 
You're to come back at six. 

LiNDON. [Off stage, at a distance.] All right. 

[Eve comes in excitedly from the Right, 



THE TRUTH 13 

Mrs. Lindon. I think it is Fred! Watch 

from the window! I'll stay here in case Becky 

comes in. \S}ie comes to the writing-table.] I'd 

like to scratch her eyes out ! 

[Laura comes in and goes to right oj the sofa. 
Laura. It was Fred. 

Mrs. Lindon. [Gives a tigerish, half-controlled, 
hushed cry of rage.] The wretched little beast! 
[Becky comes in with a start of surprise. She 

beams. 
Becky. My dears ! What a pleasant surprise ! 
Wliy didn't Jenks tell me? Where in the world 
did you drop from? Laura, darling! 

[She kisses Laura, who is very unresponsive, 

having pressed Mrs. Lindon's hand as she 

passed her. 

Mrs. Ldtoon. We heard you come in, — we 

thought with some one, — and as I'm rather upset, 



14 THE TRUTH 

we went in there till you should be alone. If you 

are busy, don't let us interrupt. 

[Becky shows that she is relieved when she 
hears they donH know Fred was there. 

Becky. O dear, no, I'm not busy. I came 
home alone, — you must have heard me talking 
with the servant. I've been playing bridge since 
luncheon. 

[Becky and Laura sit on the sofa, 

Mrs. Lindon. Where? 

Becky. Clara Ford's, our usual four. 

[Laura and Eve exchange glances, 

Mrs. Lindon. Why! I saw her lunching at 
Sherry's. 

Becky. [Quickly, after only a second's hesi- 
tation.'] Yes, she couldn't play to-day, but it was 
her turn at her house, so we went all the same — 
and — er — er — Belle Prescott took her place. 



THE TRUTH 15 

{Another surreptitious look passes between Laura 
and Mrs. Lindon. 

Laura. Did you win? 

Becky. Yes, a hundred and fifty! 

Laura. A hundred and fifty? Good! 

Mrs. Lindon. \Who has seated herself in the 
chair beside the sofa.] Becky, Laura knows all 
my troubles; she's the bosom I weep them out on. 

Becky. Oh, come, I've gathered a few dewey 
diamonds off my laces! Well, how is Fred be- 
having? Has he shown any sign yet? 

Mrs. Lindon. Not one. I thought perhaps 
you'd have some news. 

Becky. [Looking away.] I? How should I 
have? 

[Leans over and smooths her skirt. Mrs. 
Lindon exchanges a look with Laura. 

Mrs. Lindon. You said two days ago for me 



i6 THE TRUTH 

to keep silent and wait, and Fred would make an 

advance. 

Becky. And so he will, I'm sure ! unless you 
do what you threatened. \Tq Laura.] I tell Eve 
if she starts a suit for separation or does anything 
of that sort publicly, Fred may be furious and 
accept the situation, no matter how much of a 
bluff it might be on Eve's part. 

Laura. Very likely. 

Mrs. Lindon. I thought perhaps you meant 
to see Fred and have a talk with him? 

Becky. No ! [Mrs. Lindon and Laura ex- 
change glances^ as Becky, rising, rings bell Right.] 
What good would that do? To have the recon- 
ciliation mean anything it must be of his own 
volition. He must come for you, Eve, because 
he misses you, because he wants you back. [Mrs. 
Lindon joins Laura on the sofa and talks in a 



THE TRUTH I7 

loud and excited whisper to her as to Becky's 
very evident prevarication. Servant enters Right; 
Becky speaks to him aside, amusedly watching 
them, and then comes above table. As she comes 
hack.] WeU? 

Mrs. Lindon. I believe there's another woman 
in it! 

Becky. [Laughing.] I knew she was jealous! 
[To Mrs. Lindon.] That's just the sort of thing 
that has made quarrels all along between you and 
Fred. 

[She comes to her, 

Mrs. Lindon. Well, if you knew all I've had 
to forgive Fred, and all I have forgiven, you'd 
realize I had good reason always for my share of 
the quarrels. 

Becky. Listen to me, Eve. You're a luckier 

woman than you know! 
c 



i8 THE TRUTH 

Mrs. Lindon. \Startled.\ How do you mean? 

[Laura puts her hand on Eve's shoulder to 
calm her. 

Becky. Because, instead of having the for- 
giveness always on his side, you have the blessed 
privilege of doing the forgiveness yourself. [Mrs. 
Lindon gives a jalsetto snort.] You may smile if 
you like — 

Mrs. Lindon. [Interrupting.] Oh, no, thank 
you. I don't feel at all like smiling! 

Becky. Well, honestly, I envy you. [Takes 
Eve's hands in hers. Mrs. Lindon looks once 
at Laura questioningly, and hack again quickly 
to Becky.] You know I love Tom with my whole 
heart — and it's a big heart for a little woman 
— and yet I keep him forgiving me — forgiving 
me something or other all the time. I'd be afraid 
his forgiveness would wear out, only it's in his 



THE TRUTH 19 

soul instead of his body, and if our bodies wear 
out; our souls dorCt — Ao they? Already at the 
very beginning of our life together I owe him 
more dear forgiveness than I can ever repay, and 
believe me. Eve, such a debt would be unbear- 
able for a woman unless she adored her husband. 

Mrs. Lindon. You've too much sentiment — 
I'm practical. 

Becky. [Sitting down in the chair at Centre.] 
Does being practical give you one-half the happi- 
ness my "sentiment" gives me? 

Mrs. Lindon. Nonsense ! My sympathies are 
with the one who has the forgiving to do. 

Becky. You mean, like all selfish people, you 
sympathize with yourself, so you'll never be 
happy, even if you get Fred back. 

Mrs. Lindon. [Startled, angry.] If? What do 
you mean by that? 



20 THE TRUTH 

[Looks at Becky, then at Laura, sharply, then 
hack at Becky. 

Becky. [Smiling.'] Say when instead! when 
you get Fred back. Trust me, teach yourself 
to be grateful that it is you who have to forgive, 
and not the other way round. 

Mrs. Lindon. [Rises, facing her, almost tri- 
umphantly, fully persuaded that Becky is in the 
wrong.] I knew when I came here you'd make 
excuses for him. 

Becky. [Smiling.] You've misunderstood me. 
I'm trying to make them for you. 

Mrs. Lindon. Thank you. You need excuses 
more than I do. 

Laura. [Rises, alarmed.] Eve! 

Mrs. Lindon. I am perfectly well aware that 
I made a very serious mistake in coming to you 
of all women! 



THE TRUTH 21 

Becky. {Rises.^ In that case I think it best 
to consider the matter closed between us. 

Mrs. Lindon. You can think what you please, 
but I have no such intention! 
Laura. Eve! 

^She sits again on the sofa. 
Really Becky has shown herself reasonable and 
kind, and you've said enough to-day. We'd 
better go. 

Becky. I should have to ask you to excuse me 
in any case, as I have an engagement in a few 
minutes. 

[Mrs. Lindon looks meaningly at Laura. 
Mrs. Lindon. [To Becky.] I intend to have 
the whole thing out now! 

[Warder enters lejt. 

[Warder is a strong and sensible, unsuspicious 

man, — no nerves and no " temperament,'^ noth- 



22 THE TRUTH 

ing subtle about him; he is straightforward 
and lovable. 
Warder. Oh, excuse me! 
Becky. No, come in, Tom; it's Laura and 
Mrs. Lindon. 
[Laura and Mrs. Lindon say ^'How do you do/* 
as Warder comes into the room. He greets 
them in turn. Becky writes in pencil on a 
sheet oj paper on the desk. 
Tom. I wanted to ask Becky if she wished 
to go to a theatre to-night. 

Becky. Yes, I should like to. [She indicates 
to Tom that she wants Eve and Laura to go, and 
having finished writings comes to him.] I'm sorry, 
but you really must excuse me. [Slipping into 
Warder's hand the note she had secretly written.] 
Mrs. Lindon and Laura are going. What are 
you going to do now? 



THE TRUTH 23 

[Mrs. Lindon looks again meaningly at Laura. 

Warder. I thought I'd go round to the club 
till dinner. 

Becky. {Relievei.'l That's right. I shall be 
engaged till half -past six, — er — Mrs. Clayton 
is coming to see me about the Golf Club at Ros- 
lyn — and — lots of things. You needn't hurry- 
back. 

\She gives him an affectionate little squeeze of 
the arm and goes out Right. He looks down 
at the paper slyly and reads it. 

Mrs. Lindon. [Rises and goes to Tom.] Tom, 
if you've nothing in particular on at the club, 
would you give me half an hour? 

Laura. [Rises and goes to Eve.] Eve, you 
haven't the time yourself; you must come with 
me. 

Warder. [Suppressing a smile as he finishes 



24 THE TRUTH 

reading the note, he is a little embarrassed.] Well 
— really — Eve — I don't know, — I'll tell you 
how it is — 

Mrs. Lestdon. Oh, I don't mean here! I 
know Becky wrote you a note telling you not to 
let me stay, didn't she? 

Warder. [Laughing.] She did — you see, she 
has an engagement. [Reading from the paper, 
good-naturedly.] ''Get rid of Eve, I want the 
room." 

Mrs. Lindon. At six o'clock. 

[Glances meaningly at Laura. 

Warder. [Casually.] Is it? 

Mrs. Lindon. To see Fred in! 

Laura. Eve 1 be sensible ! 

Warder. No, it's for Mrs. Clayton about 
Roslyn. 

Mrs. Lindon. Then why must she be rid of 



THE TRUTH 25 

me? Georgia Clayton and I are the best of 
friends, and I have as much to do with Roslyn 
as Becky. 

Warder. \Still pleasantly. \ I suppose Beck 
has a good reason, if she cared to tell us. 

Mrs. Lindon. I know Becky has an appoint- 
ment here, at six, with Fred. 

Laura. You don't know it, Eve! 

Mrs. Lindon. I do. 

Warder. \Still pleasantly. \ In any case that 
is Becky's and Fred's business, isn't it? 

Mrs. Lindon. You know Fred! 

Warder. Yes! 

Mrs. Lindon. Well? 

Warder. You don't want my opinion of Fred, 
at this late day! I also know Becky! 

Mrs. Lindon. Becky and Fred meet every 
single day. 



26 THE TRUTH 

Laura. [Interpolates.] She thinks so. 

Warder. What are you talking about? 

Mrs. Lindon. What I know/ And if you'll 
wait here with me a few minutes now, in spite of 
what Becky said, you'll see Fred and not Mrs. 
Clayton arrive. 

Warder. If your husband is really coming, it 
was probably to spare you that Becky spoke of 
Mrs. Clayton, and I shouldn't think of embarrass- 
ing her by waiting. 

Mrs. Lindon. [Disagreeably, irritatingly.] Oh, 
you don't mind, then? 

Warder. Almost any man, my dear Eve, 
would mind your husband meeting his wife every 
day! I only think you've been misinformed, or 
only half informed, that's all. 

Mrs. Lindon. You are aware that Fred and I 
have been separated for two months? 



THE TRUTH 27 

Warder. Yes, Becky told me. 

Laura. [Looking at her watch.] It's almost six 
now. Come, Eve. 

Warder. [Going toward the door, Left.] Yes, 
I'm afraid I must ask you — 

[Rings electric bell on wall beside the door. 

Mrs. Lindon. [Going to him.] Tom, for the 
sake of our boy and girl friendship, walk home 
with me, and let me speak plainly. 

Laura. [On the other side oj Warder.] Mr. 
Warder, please don't go. 

Mrs. Lindon. [To Laura, angry.] What do 
you mean? [To Warder, pleadingly.] I've no 
other man in the world to go to; I need advice. 
Won't you give me yours? 

Warder. [Looks at her a moment, hesitates, 
then says.] My advice? Of course, if you wish 
that. [The Servant appears in the doorway in 



28 THE TRUTH 

answer to the hell. To Servant.] My hat and 
coat — and say to Mrs. Warder I'm walking home 
with Mrs. Lindon. 

[He goes out Left, 
Servant. Yes, sir. 

[Follows him out. 

[Laura looks significantly at Mrs. Lindon. 

Laura. If you keep on, there soon won't be a 

soul left in New York whose advice you haven^t 

asked and not taken! 

Mrs. Lindon. Well, it's my own trouble; I 
can do what I like with it. What are you going 
to do now? 

[She sits in the armchair at the Left. 
Laura. [Going to her.] Don't tell him all you 
think you know about Becky. 
Mrs. Lindon. Think/ 
Laura. It will be a very great mistake. 



THE TRUTH 29 

Mrs. Lindon. Laura, I'll tell you the truth; 
IVe had Fred watched by private detectives for 
over a month, and I have a list of dates and places 
of their meetings to more than prove what I say. 

Laura. How dreadful of you! 

Mrs. Lindon. Oh, wait till you get a hus- 
band, and then you'll sympathize more with a 
woman who is trying to keep one! 

Laura. But these places where they meet? 

Mrs. Lindon. Are respectable so far as I 
know. But daily meetings my dear, daily I 

Laura. And you'll tell Mr. Warder? 

Mrs. Lindon. I don't know yet how much I 
shall tell. What are you going to do now? 

Laura. Wait till to-morrow! Give yourself 
time to recover, to consider. 

Mrs. Lindon. [Simply repeats.] What are you 
going to do now? 



3© THE TRUTH 

Laura. [Deliberately crosses to the chair at 
Centre and sits.] Stay and see Becky. 

Mrs. Lindon. [Rises, delighted.] Oh, do! 
Stay till Fred comes, and catch her! 

Laura. No, no! I've finished with this now. 
I don't sympathize with what you're going to do. 

Warder. [With hat and coat, in the doorway 
Left.] Ready? 

Mrs. Lindon. Yes. 

Warder. Good-by, Laura. 

Laura. Good-by. [Mrs. Lindon goes out Left 
with Warder. After the outside door is heard to 
close Becky comes into the room hurriedly. She 
stops suddenly on seeing Laura, turns and tries to 
steal out. Just as she gets to the door, Laura 
catches her.] Becky! 

[Becky turns and their eyes meet. Becky 
laughs, realizing she is caught. 



THE TRUTH 31 

Becky. Oh, you didn't go with them? 

Laura. No ! 

Becky. Had enough of Eve to-day? 

Laura. Not enough of you. 

Becky. \Sings instead 0} speaks,] *' Thank 
you I" 

[She puts her arm around Laura, and they sit 
on the sofa. 

Laura. Becky, why won't you be frank with Eve ? 

Becky. I was. 

Laura. No, you didn't tell the truth about see- 
ing Fred. 

Becky. Oh, that! 

Laura. Yes, that ! 

Becky. I may have seen him once or twice, 
that's all. 

Laura. Exactly what Eve says — you don't 
tell the truth ! 



32 THE TRUTH 

Becky. It's false! I never told a malicious 
lie in my life. I never told a fib that hurt any 
one but myself! 

Laura. Tell Eve the truth. Make her have 
confidence in you. She says if you cross the 
ferry to Jersey City, you say you've been abroad. 

Becky. \Laughing.\ Well, so I have I Laura! 
I'm doing my best to make Eve happy. I can't 
do any more than my best, and if I do it at all, I 
must do it my own way! 

Laura. You've seen Fred to-day. 

Becky. No, I haven't. 

Laura. Becky! He came home with you just 
now! 

Becky. What makes you think so? 

Laura. I saw his back on the steps with you. 

Becky. Oh, I see — spying on me ? Well, you 
made a mistake in the back. 



THE TRUTH 33 

Laura. I know it was Fred Lindon. 

Becky. And I know it wasn't. 

Laura. You're not seeing him every day? 

Becky. Certainly not! But what affair is it 
of yours, if I do ? 

Laura. We're all friends, and you're making 
Eve wildly jealous. 

Becky. That is entirely her own fault, not 
mine. 

\The Servant enters Lejt with a hill on a small 
silver tray. 

Servant. Pardon me, madam, a man with a 
box and a bill to collect. 

Becky. [Taking bill.] A bandbox? 

[She opens bill. 
Servant. Yes, madam. 

Becky. [To Laura.] Oh, my dear, such a 

duck of a hat! And only sixty-five dollars. I 

D 



34 THE TRUTH 

saw it on my way here and couldn't resist buying. 

Are hats a passion with you? 

Laura. \Uninterested.\ Yes, rather. 

Becky. I told them to send it C.O.D., but I 
didn't suppose it would come till to-morrow and I 
haven't a cent ! 

Laura. I thought you said you won a hundred 
and fifty at bridge? 

Becky. No, no, my dear, you misunderstood 
me, I lost. \To Servant.] Tell the man if he can't 
leave the box, to take it back and call later; say 
Mrs. Warder is out. 

Servant. Yes, madam. 

\Goes out with the bill, Left, 

Laura. You said you won at bridge ! 

Becky. Oh, you tedious person! You hang 
on to anything like a terrier, don't you ! I said I 
won because I didn't want Eve to think I'd lost; 



THE TRUTH 35 

I never can bear to own up I've lost anything 
before Eve. [LaughSy pulls Laura by the arm.] 
Good-by ! 

Laura. I won't go yet. 

Becky. [Urging her.] You must. I have an 
engagement. 

Laura. With Fred Lindon ! 

Becky. It is not. [Servant enters and an- 
nounces "Mr. Lindon." Lindon follows in. He 
is surprised to see Laura, hut instantly covers his 
surprise. Going to Lindon, quickly.] Oh, what a 
surprise I 

Lindon. Surprise? Am I early? 

Becky. [Indicating Laura.] Sh! Yes, sur- 
prise. [Lindon sees Laura and makes an amused 
grimace.] But I can only give you a very few 
minutes. I have an engagement, haven't I, 
Laura ? 



36 THE TRUTH 

\As they shake hands. 
LiNDON. Oh, hello, Laura ! 
Laura. [Very dryly.] How d'you do, Fred? 
LiNDON. How's Eve? 

Laura. [Embarrassed.] Very well — at least 
not very — yes, she is of course very well ! She's 
just left here. 

[She adds this pointedly. 
LiNDON. Oh! sorry I missed her! Give her 
my regards when you see her, and say I'm glad 
she's well. 

[He goes to the piano, sits on the bench, and 

plays. 
Laura. [Rises indignant.] I shall do nothing 
of the kind. 

[She starts to leave the room. Lindon runs what 
he is playing into ^^Good-by, little girl, Good- 
ly.'' 



THE TRUTH yj 

Becky. [Offering her hand.] Good-by. 
Laura. [Pretends not to see Becky's hand.] 
Good-by. 

[She goes out Left. 

Becky. [Going to the piano.] They both saw 
you come hack with me I 

LiNDON. [Still playing, improvising. Laugh- 
ing.] No! Did they? 

Becky. [Laughing.] Yes, but it's no laughing 
matter ! Eve is jealous. 

LiNDON. [Stops playing.] What right has she? 
Did she expect me to sit alone in the drawing- 
room for two months straining my ears to hear her 
ring the front door bell? 

[He continues playing. 
Becky. They know we've been meeting every 
day, — at least they think so. Have we ? 
LiNDON. [Still playing.] No ! 



38 THE TRUTH 

Becky. Yes, we have! HavenH -we? 

LiNDON. [Stops playing.] Well, yes, if you 
want the truth. 

Becky. [Goes to sofa and sits.] There's no use 
telling a story about it. I've nothing to be 
ashamed of, — I did it with the best of motives. 

LiNDON. [Goes to Becky.] Oh, don't spoil it 
all, Becky, with motives! 

[He leans over the arm of the sofa to talk to her, 

Becky. [Laughs.] You know Eve mustn't be 
jealous of me! 

LiNDON. [Earnestly.] Now you're not going to 
let her break up our little — - 

Becky. [Interrupting.] Fred, how much do you 
like me? 

LiNDON. [Smiling.] I daren't tell you! 

Becky. No, I mean really/ 

LiNDON. So do I! 



THE 7RU7H 39 

Becky. I believe you are fond of me. 

LiNDON. I am ! 

Becky. And I like you to be. 

LiNDON. [Placing his hand on hers on the sofa^s 
arm.] Because? 

Becky. [Slowly drawing her hand from his,] I 

like men to like me, even though it really means 

nothing. 

LiNDON. Nothing? 

[Rather chagrined. 

Becky. [Amused.] I like it for myself, and 
besides I think it's a compliment to Tom! 

LiNDON. [Mockingly.] Oh ! Oh ! I say ! Becky ! 

[He moves to the chair Right beside Becky and 
drawing it nearer sits jacing her. 

Becky. But with you there was a special 
reason. 

LiNDON. [Is encouraged. Draws a little nearer 
to her.] Yes? 



40 THE TRUTH 

Becky. Of course you have perfectly under- 
stood why I've seen so much of you. 

LiNDON. You've been my friend. 

Becky. I've sympathized with you. 

LiNDON. You've been the only real glimpse of 
happiness I've had for months in my life. 

Becky. Don't be rhetorical! no man sounds 
sincere, when he talks pictures. I'll tell you why 
I wanted you to come back this afternoon. 

LiNDON. [Taking her two hands.] To make 
me happy! 

Becky. [Pulling her hands away, and patting 
his half seriously.] Yes, [He leans over toward 
her.] by making you realize it's time you went to 
Eve and asked her to come back. 

LiNDON. [Sinking hack in his chair.] Non- 
sense; Eve's made a row and frightened you. 

Becky. How frightened me? I always meant 



THE TRUTH 41 

when I'd got you where I wanted you, to in- 
fluence you to make it up with Eve. She adores 
you! 

LiNDON. She has an odd way of showing it. 

\H.e rises and leans against the mantel beside the 
soja. 

Becky. You don't want every woman to show 
her love in the same way. 

LiNDON. I don't want any other woman to 
show me she loves me in Eve's way. 

Becky. Come now, you're unfair to Eve ! I'm 
going to sympathize with her a little. Granted 
that she is jealous, granted that she doesn't always 
control her temper ! — what woman worth while 
does! 

LiNDON. [Laughing.] But she ought to trust 
me — as you do. 

Becky. [Laughing.] Oh, I'm not your wife. 



42 THE TRUTH 

I wouldn't trust you for a minute if I were married 
to you! 

LiNDON. How about Tom ? 

Becky. Of course I trust Tom. 

LiNDON. And I trust Eve. 

\Laughing. 

Becky. Oh ! but it's not the same thing. You 
trust Eve because you don't care enough. I trust 
Tom because — well, in one little word, he is per- 
fect and I adore him ! 

LiNDON. Sounds boring! 

Becky. Eve's proved she loves you with a hig 
love! She's proved it by forgiveness. That's 
the proof of a love it's not easy to get and even 
harder to deserve! You've got it — \He moves 
toward her.] we won't go into the deserving part ! 
But if only half that she says and one quarter of 
what every one else says of you is true, you ought 



THE TRUTH 43 

to go on your knees to her in gratitude if she is will- 
ing to take you back. 

LiNDON. \Sits on the arm of sofa, half laugh- 
ing.] She will! She's left before. 

Becky. You love her, Fred? 

LiNDON. [Casually.] No, I love you! 

Becky. Nonsense! I mean really! Promise 
me you'll go to Eve to-morrow and ask her to come 
back. 

LiNDON. [Slides down on to sofa.] Not yet — 
give me another month ! 

Becky. You'll lose her ! 

LiNDON. No, there are certain things you can't 
lose — try as hard as you like ! 

Becky. That isn't funny. 

LiNDON. She's been urging you to do this. 

Becky. Nothing of the sort ! She's too proud. 
And she mustn't dream I've had anything to do 



44 THE TRUTH 

with your going to her. No woman really wants 
to accept her happiness like a pauper at the Lady 
Bountiful hands of another woman. She might 
think she was grateful to me, but she wouldn't be ! 
With a disposition like Eve's you'd have another 
quarrel inside a fortnight. No ! Eve must think 
you've come to her spontaneously because you 
can't live without her. \He whistles. She rises.] 
You can whistle, but you'll never get another 
woman half so good to you as Eve! Make her 
think you want her back. Make yourself think 
you want her back, and you don't know how happy 
you'll be — first in making her happy, and second 
in finding you are yourself. 

[He takes hold of her hand; she draws it away 
quickly and sits in the armchair on the opposite 
side of the room. 

LiNDON. What are you doing away over there? 



THE TRUTH 45 

Becky. Oh, I thought it was getting a little 
crowded on the sofa. 

LiNDON. And must I give up my visits with 
you? 

Becky. Of course. 

LiNDON. Oh, well, if that's the price, I don't 
want happiness, it costs too much! 

Becky. You won't need sympathy any more. 
You can write me a little note and say: ''Becky, 
I thought I loved you, but it was only a heart 
being caught on the rebound. Thank you for 
being sensible and pitching the heart back! 
Thank you for seeing my real happiness was in 
making Eve happy." 

LiNDON. You know that doesn't sound like me 1 

Becky. Not like your foolish old yoUy but 
like your sensible new you, who has found out 
you can have a woman friend without getting 



46 THE TRUTH 

sued for damages, — which has been your usual 

experience, I believe! 

LiNDON. Becky! Don't rob the graves! 

Becky. Well, will you go to Eve and beg her 
to come back? 

LiNDON. \Rises.\ No! 

Becky. Fred! The price of my friendship 
is your peace with Eve! 

LiNDON. [Going to Becky.] But if I consent, 
I may come to see you? 

Becky. Yes. 

LiNDON. Eve, my darling wife, forgive me! 
Come to my arms and stay there — for five 
minutes — consider it done! Where, to-mor- 
row? 

Becky. The Metropolitan? 

LiNDON. No, let me come here to-morrow, 
and what time? 



THE TRUTH 47 

Becky. \Rises.\ Four — but to say Good~hyt 
[She means it.] The last visit! 

LiNDON. Oh ! well, we won't cross that bridge 
till we come to it! and I'll make you a bet if 
you ever do send me away for good, do you know 
what will happen? 

Becky. [Amused.] No, what? 

LiNDON. In a day or two you'd send for me 
to come again after all! 

Becky. [Laughing.] Why? 

LiNDON. Because you like me better than you 
think you do! 

Becky. [Going to the writing-table.] Oh, 
really ! ! 

LiNDON. [Following her.] Yes, really! and 
you know ' — though you may not acknowledge 
it to yourself, still you know just how strong my 
feeling is for you. 



48 THE TRUTH 

Becky. [Turning toward him.] But I do ac- 
knowledge it, and I am grateful and pleased to 
have you care for me. 

[She pulls the chair beside the table in front of 
her. 

LiNDON. [Pushing chair away.] "Care for 
you!" 

Becky. [Pulling chair back.] Yes! and I 
want to show my appreciation by making you 
happy. 

LiNDON. Eve's jealousy has frightened you, 
but you'll forget it to-morrow! 

Becky. [Really not understanding.] How do 
you mean? 

[She looks at him questioningly, innocently. 
He looks back knowingly with a half smile, 
not believing her. A pause. Warder comes 



THE TRUTH 49 

in Lejt. He looks from one to the other, 
then speaks pleasantly. 
Warder. Oh! How are you, Lindon? 
LiNDON. Good evening, Warder. 

[Both men stand; an awkward pause. 
Becky. [Sitting in the armchair Right. 1 Sit 
down, Tom. 

[He does so on the chair by the table. Lindon 

sits on the sofa. A moment^s pause.] 
Lindon. Do you come up town generally as 
late as this? 
Warder. Oh, no, I've been up some time. 

[Second awkward pause, 
Becky. Did you get the theatre tickets? 
Warder. No, I forgot; I didn't go to the 
club. I'll telephone from here. [Very casually. 
Has Mrs. Clayton gone? 
Becky. Who? 



so THE TRUTH 

Warder. Mrs. Clayton. You said — 

[Becky interrupting, 
Becky. Mrs. CI — ? Oh! Yes! She's gone. 

\Awk'ward pause, 
LiNDON. Have you been to the club ? 
Warder, \yery casually.] No, I walked back 
with your wife to her mother's. 
[Awkward pause, Becky and Lindon ex- 
change glances. 
Lindon. [Half humorously.] I hear Eve is 

looking very well. 

[Pause. 

Warder. By the way, will you have a whiskey 
and soda, a cocktail or something? 

Becky. Or tea? 

Lindon. Tea? poison to me I No, thanks, 
I must be getting on. 

[All rise; then, after a moment of embarrassment^ 
Warder speaks. 



THE TRUTH 51 

Warder. Yes? 

LiNDON. I've an early, melancholy, bachelor's 
dinner at seven. 

Becky. It's your own fault 1 Think how well 
Eve looks in a dinner dress, and what a delight- 
ful hostess she always is. 

LiNDON. Yes, Eve's all right in a crowd ! 
[Shaking hands. To Warder.] Forgive my 
domestic affairs intruding. Mrs. Warder has 
been kind enough to advise me a little! 
Good-by 1 

[Going. 

Warder. I'm sure her advice is good. You'd 
better take it I 

LiNDON. Perhaps ! — but in homeopathic doses ! 
[To Becky.] Good-by ! [To Warder.] Bye, 
Warder. 

[Laughingf he goes out Left. Warder and 



52 THE TRUTH 

Becky, alone^ look at each other ^ — Becky 
questioningly, Warder half puzzled. 

Becky. Well ! Has Eve been weeping on 
your bosom, too? 

Warder. No, I think she scratched it, if she 
did anything! 

Becky. [Half amused , half worried.] How do 
you mean? [The Servant enters with a letter 
which he gives to Becky.] When did this 
come? 

Servant. A little while ago, but madam gave 
orders not to be interrupted. 

[He goes out. Warder gives Becky a quick y 
sharp look, which, however, she doesnH notice. 

Becky. From father! He can't want more 
money already! 

Warder. You sent him how much two days 
ago? 



THE TRUTH 53 

Becky. \Goes above the writing-table as she 
opens the letter.] You sent him, you generous 
darling, three hundred dollars. I had given him 
his allowance the beginning of the month. 

Warder. And gone already! Of course, he's 
been at the races this week! No more. Becky, 
— is it true you've been seeing Lindon every 
day lately? 

Becky. [While she reads her letter,] No ! — 
yes! [Looks up at him.] I mean no, certainly 
not! 

Warder. [Smiling.] Which is it? or do I 
take my choice? 

Becky. [With a little laugh.] I've seen some- 
thing of him. I'm sorry for him. — Father's in 
more trouble. 

Warder. That's an old story, and this is 
something new. Eve is jealous of you. 



54 THE TRUTH 

Becky. \Looks up at him.] Are you, of Fred 
Lindon ? 

Warder. No! 

Becky. [Goes quickly to him and kisses him 
and pushes him down on to the sofa.] Bless you ! 
You're right, and that's my answer to Eve ! — 
Father does want more money! 

Warder. We send no more till next month, 
not one penny. Come here! [He makes her sit 
on the arm oj the sofa beside him. She puts her 
arm about his neck and hugs him. Warder 
continues.] You haven't seen Lindon almost daily 
for the past month, have you? 

Becky. No. 

Warder. You haven't met him by appoint- 
ment at the Metropolitan, Eden Mus^e, or any 
such places? 

Becky. Eve's jealousy gives her the most 



THE TRUTH 55 

ridiculous ideas! When I have been with Mr. 
Lindon, it has been principally to talk about Eve, 
and entirely with the desire to try and reconcile 
them. 

Warder. Grant that ! But it's not true about 
all these appointments? 

Becky. No! 

Warder. \With his arm about her waist.] 
I believe you love me better than all the world? 

Becky. Than all the world, and every world, 
and all the planets put together, Mars, Saturn, 
and Venus. Yes. I love you even more than 
Venus ! 

[Laughing and giving him another caress. 

Warder. I have every confidence in you and 
your motives. But I have none in Lindon's — 
so I want to-day's visit to be his last, my 
dear. 



56 THE TRUTH 

Becky. [Risings a little uncomfortable.] All 
right. 

Warder. Own up, now, hasn't he tried to 
make love to you? 

Becky. [Leaning on the back of the chair, 
facing him.] No ! 

Warder. Not a bit? 

Becky. [Smiling.] Well — maybe — just a tiny 
bit — but not in earnest. 

Warder. [Rising, angrily.] I was sure of it! 
the damn puppy! Becky, IVe heard him swear 
there's no such thing as a decent woman if a man 
goes about it in the right way! 

Becky. Oh, you men are always hard on 
another man whom women like. 

Warder. I know what I'm talking about ^his 
time, and you don't. 

Becky. [With dignity.] I judge by his be- 



THE TRUTH 57 

havior to me. He may have led me to believe he 
likes me very much, — he ought to like me, I've 
been very nice to him, — and I suppose it flattered 
me — [Smiling.] it always does flatter me when 
men like me, — and I think one feeling I have 
is pride that you have a wife whom other men 
admire ! If Mr. Lindon has made — er — re- 
spectful love to me, that's a compliment to you. 
[Warder laughs y sincerely amused.] But he has 
not insulted me. 

Warder. [Smiling.] That's your fault. You 
are the kind of woman he doesn't believe exists, 
and he can't make up his mind just what tactics 
to adopt. 

Becky. He knows perfectly, unless he's deaf 
and blind, that my seeing him — a few times 
only — has been solely to reconcile him with 
Eve. 



58 THE TRUTH 

Warder. That sort of man is deaf and blind 
except to his own rotten mental suggestions. He 
is incapable of believing in your philanthropic 
motive, so let it go, dear. 

Becky. [Places the letter on the writing-table 
and sits behind it.] Eve has frightened you! 

Warder. [Walks away.] Not a bit; I laughed 
at her fears that you were fascinated by her pre- 
cious worm ! But I do consider that unwittingly 
you have been playing a dangerous and — for- 
give me, darling — [Going to her.] a very fool- 
ish game. Already some one believes you've 
been seeing Lindon every day. You haven't! 
But that doesn't make any difference! Every 
one will believe you have seen him twice a day in 
another month if you continue seeing him at all. 
No woman can have the "friendship" of a man 
like Lindon for long without — justly or unjustly 



THE TRUTH 59 

— paying the highest price for it. \B.e places 
his hand tenderly on her shoulder.] You wouldn't 
know what the price was till the bill came in, — 
and then no matter how well you knew and those 
who love you knew you had not danced, all the 
same the world would make you pay the piper! 

Becky. I do your sex greater justice than you 1 
I don't believe there's any man, no matter what he 
has been, whom some sincere woman can't waken 
to some good that is in him ! 

Warder. [Smiling.] That's all right, but you 
please let Eve wake up Lindon! [He moves 
away.] Had you made any arrangements to ring 
a little friendly alarm on him to-morrow? 

Becky. No! And that, of course, was Eve's 
suggestion ! 

Warder. Well, never mind so long as it's 
understood his visits here are at an end. You 



6o THE TRUTH 

don't expect him to-morrow, and should he come, 

you won't see him, eh? 

Becky. Exactly! [Smiling.] When I told him 
to-day his visits were over, what do you think 
he said? 

Warder. I couldn't guess. 

Becky. He said I'd change my mind and send 
for him ! 

Warder. And if you did, do you know what 
he would do? 

Becky. No, — what ? 

Warder. Consider it a signal of capitulation, 
— and ten to one take you in his arms and kiss 
you! 

Becky. [Rises.] He wouldn't dare! 

Warder. I'm not sure, but at any rate I am 
serious about one thing in this discussion. 

Becky. [Goes to him and places her hands 



THE TRUTH 6i 

lovingly on his arms.] Our first " domestic 
row." 

Warder. [Turns her about and holds her in 
his arms, — she leans against him.] And last ! 

Becky. Amen ! 

Warder. [Very seriously.] And I echo the 
sentiment, I know, of every sane husband in 
New York — Lindon's attentions to a man's 
wife are an insult, and as your husband I won't 
have them. 

Becky. [Leaving his arms, pushes him play- 
fully into a chair and sits near him in the corner 
of the sofa.] Well, give me my woman's last 
word. I still think you are unfair to him — but 
I love you all the same ! ! 

Warder. You'd better! 

Becky. I'm so afraid you'll get — not tired, 
but — well — too used to me ! 



62 THE TRUTH 

Warder. Not till I find you twice the samel 
Now, — what about your father ? 

Becky. He only wants fifty dollars, and says 
he must have it; let's send it. 

Warder. No, that's the way it's been always. 
Our "no" has always ended "yes," so of course 
he hasn't believed in it. This time it must stay 
"no." 

Becky. [Plaintively.] You won't send it? 

Warder. No, and you mustn't. 

Becky. Oh, I haven't got a cent. But he 
says he's in real trouble and he must have it. 

Warder. It's always the same thing! And 
we must put a stop to his inveterate, indiscriminate 
gambling. If we don't teach him the lesson he 
needs soon, before we know it he will be in real 
trouble that ten thousand times fifty dollars 
mightn't get him out of. 



THE TRUTH 63 

Becky. But he promises not to — 

Warder. [Interrupting.] My dear! He has 
given his word over and over again, and broken 
it twice as many times ! If it isn't a race course, 
it's a bucket shop — or some cheap back door 
roulette table, and it's got to stop ! Stop now ! 

Becky. But, Tom — 

Warder. [Interrupting.] Now, Becky ! You 
know how hard it is for me to refuse you. 

Becky. It's only — 

Warder. [Interrupting.] You must trust my 
judgment, and your father must learn, and a small 
matter of fifty dollars is a good chance to begin; 
it can't be so very serious! so that's ended. 

Becky. [Half humorously, half discouragedly.] 
Yes, I guess it's ended ! 

Warder. Now, will you try to reahze that I 
only want to do what's best and right? 



64 THE TRUTH 

Becky. \Kisses him.\ Yes, but I can't help 
feeling sorry for father. 

\Smiling. 

[The Servant enters Lejt with a hill and a 
bandbox. 

Servant. Beg pardon, madam, but the man 
has come back. 

Becky. [Takes the bill.] Oh, my hat I Very 
well, I'll ring when I'm ready. Leave the box 
on the chair. 

Servant., [Puts bandbox on the chair at Lejt,] 
Very good, madam. 

[He goes out. 

Becky. [Smiling^ embarrassed.] I'm nearly as 
bad as father! 

Warder. Lose at Bridge to-day? 

Becky. No, I didn't play to-day, but I couldn*t 
resist a hat, my dear, the most adorable hat! 



THE TRUTH 65 

[Warder laughs ''Oh, Becky ?'\ No, honestly! 
Much more beautiful than the one I bought day 
before yesterday 1 I'm ashamed, but I did order 
it to come home, and I haven't a penny. 

Warder. \Teasing her.] Send it back! 

Becky. Oh, you wouldn't be so heartless! 
and what would they think at the shop? 

Warder. [Getting out his pocketbook.] How 
much is it? 

Becky. [Hesitates a moment.] Fifty dollars! 

Warder. [With a slight quizzing look.] Just 
what your father wants. 

Becky. Yes! Give the money to father and 
I'll send back the bonnet. 

Warder. No, my darling. You know it isn't 
the money with your father, it's the principle of 
the thing. I've not got the money, I must write 
a check. 



66 THE TRUTH 

[He looks for the check hook. She quickly gets 
a check hook from table and hides it behind 
her hack. 
Becky. Your check book^s upstairs. 

[She rings the hell on the desk. 
Warder. I thought perhaps yours was here? 
Becky. No, mine's used up, as usuall 
Warder. All right. 

[He goes out Right j as the Servant enters, 
Becky. [Opening the bandbox.] Send the man 
here, Jenks. 
Servant. Yes, madam. 

[He goes out, Left, 
Becky. [Takes out the hat and looks at it ad- 
miringly.] What a duck ! [Heaves a great sigh 
and puts it back and starts to re-tie the strings, as 
the Man enters.] I want you to take this back to 
Mme. Flora, and say Mrs. Warder is extremely 



THE TRUTH 67 

sorry, but Mr. Warder has taken a violent dislike 
to the hat, so she cannot have it. She will be in 
later to choose another. 
Man. Yes, ma'am. 

\B.e goes out with the bandbox, Left. Becky sits 

down and starts to write a letter hurriedly. 

Warder comes in with check. Becky hides 

the letter she is writing. 

Warder. [Coming to the table.] Here's the 

check, all but the name of the payee. Where's 

the bill? 

Becky. Make it out to me, and I'U endorse it. 
Warder. Why? 

Becky. O dear ! [Half worried, half smiling.] 
I told you a sort of fib ! The hat was only thirty- 
five dollars, but I wanted the extra fifteen for some- 
thing else. Please don't be angry — 
Warder. [Laughing.] I'm not angry, though 



68 THE TRUTH 

you know I dislike even little fibs. Why didn't 
you tell me if you're hard up? I'll give you this 
and make out another for the bonnet shop. 

Becky. No, you needn't do that; the man's 
gone now for the change, — I told him. 

Warder. [Finishes the check and gives it to 
her,] Becky! you're not going to send this to 
your father? I forbid that. 

Becky. No, no, darling! [Takes the check.] 
And now you get dressed. I'll be up in a minute. 
You know it always takes you twice as long as it 
does me when you wear a white tie 1 It's a long 
play and begins early. 

Warder. I'll bet you I'll be dressed before 
you start! 

[He hurries out, Right. 

Becky. [Rings the telephone on the desk.] 
Hello! Hello, 6304-72d. [Writes on her inter- 



THE TRUTH 69 

rupted letter with one hand and listens with the 
receiver in the other. After a moment.] Hello ! 6304- 
7 2d? Is Mr. Lindon — yes, ask him to come to 
the 'phone and speak to 2759-38th. [Listens as 
she writes.] Hello! Is that you? Yes — yes — 
Oh, [Laughs.] don't be silly! I called you to 
say I am very sorry, but our engagement for to- 
morrow is off! O double f! No, for good! 
For Good! [She adds very quickly.] Good-by! 
[Hangs up the receiver and writes. In a moment 
the telephone hell rings furiously; at first she ignores 
it; then she makes a grimace at it; then she takes 
up the receiver.] Hello! No, Central, I wasn't 
cut off. No, I don't want the number back, 
thank you, I hung up the receiver. I can't help 
that ! You needn't re-connect us — say the line 
is busy! [Hangs up the receiver.] Mercy! vv^hen 
you don't want them ! ! [Rings the electric hell on 



70 THE TRUTH 

the desk, endorses the check, puts it in the letter, 
and seals the envelope. The Servant enters as 
she addresses letter.] I want you to take this 
at once and put a special delivery stamp on it. 
I want it to reach my father in Baltimore to- 
night. 

Servant. Yes, madam. 

Becky. Have you any idea whether it would 
be delivered there to-night or to-morrow morning? 

Servant. One or the other, madam. 

Becky. [Smiling.] That I know! Make 
haste. 

[The Servant goes out Left, as Warder, all 
dressed, save that his tie hangs loose, rushes 
in. Right. She rises quickly. 

Warder. Who's ready first? 

Becky. [Laughing.] Oh, you've raced! But 
while you're tying your tie I'll — 



THE TRUTH 71 

Warder. {Interrupts. \ No, I came down 
purposely to get you to tie it for me ! 

\He stands ready. 

Becky. [Ties it during the following speeches.] 
You forgive me for telling you that little fib ? 

Warder. Yes, if it's to be your last one. 

Becky. My very last. 

Warder. No more of those wicked little white 
lies, even, that you know you do amuse yourself 
with, and distress me? 

Becky. No, no! Really! I've opened the 
cage door and let all the little white mice fibs out 
for good! 

Warder. And you do love me? 

Becky. Do you want to know how much I love 
you? 

Warder. Yes, how much? 



72 THE TRUTH 

Becky. How deep is the ocean in its deepest 
spot? 

Warder. As deep as your love for me. 

Becky. Oh, that isn't fair! You're stealing 
my thunder ! There ! \The tie is finished, and 
she pushes him playfully into the chair by the 
writing-table.] One good turn deserves another. 
[With her arms about his neck she slides on to 
his knee, like a child.] I've let Perkins go out, and 
you must hook me up the back. 

[And both laugh gayly as he embraces her and 

THE CURTAIN FALLS 



ACT II 

At the Warders^ early Saturday ajternoon^ just after 
lunch. 



ACT II 

The same scene as Act I. Becky and Warder 

are sitting on the soja, both drinking cojjee after 

lunch. Warder puts his coffee cup on the table 

as the curtain rises. 

Becky. Aren't you going to smoke, darling? 

[Putting her coffee on the table behind her. 

Warder. Yes. 

[Getting out cigar, 

Becky. Give it to me. [She takes it, and cuts 

the tip with a gold jewelled cutter which she wears 

on a chain about her neck.] For six years you've 

not smoked a cigar in my presence that I haven't 

clipped, have you? 

75 



76 THE TRUTH 

Warder. No. And how about anybody else's 
cigars? That hasn't cut off any tips for — Lin- 
don, I hope! 

Becky. No indeed! He only smokes cigar- 
ettes. 

Warder. [Amused.] Is that the only reason? 

Becky. Oh, you darling! I believe you are a 
little jealous of Lindon and I adore you for it. 

[Hugging and kissing him. 

Warder. Well, you go on adoring, but I'm not 
a bit jealous of Lindon. 

[Rises, and lights his cigar with a match from the 
table behind them. 

Becky. You're not going back to the oflSce? 
It's Saturday. 

Warder. No — I think I'll have a game of 
racquets with Billy Weld. 

Becky. Do! You love it so. I've regretted 



THE TRUTH 77 

their invitation to dine with them next week, 
Friday. I said we're going out of town. 

Warder. But we're not. We've people din- 
ing here, haven't we? 

Becky. Yes, but I think going out of town 
sounds so much more interesting. Besides, then 
they can't possibly be offended that they aren't 
asked here. Grace '11 be consumed with curiosity, 
too, as to where we're going! 

\Amused, 

Warder. But if they see us Friday? 

Becky. They'll think we haven't gone yet. 

Warder. But if Billy meets me down town 
Saturday morning? 

Becky. He'll think you took an early train 
back. 

Warder. The truth's so simple, so much 
easier — why not tell it? 



78 THE TRUTH 

Becky. Don't worry, it'll be all right. I'm 
sorry I told you if you're going to worry! 

\He goes to kiss her; she stops him. 

Warder. [Sitting beside her.] What's up ? 

Becky. I've decided I kiss you too often. I'm 
a shop-keeper with only one line of goods — no 
variety, and I'm cheapening my wares. [War- 
der laughs.] 1 don't want you to feel you're 
getting a left-over stock of stale, shopworn kisses ! 
I want you to feel the supply doesn't equal the 
demand. 

[She kisses him. The Servant enters and they 
move apart. 

Servant. Mrs. Lindon to see Mr. Warder. 

Becky. [To Warder.] Eve! [To Servant.] 

Ask her to come in here and have a cup of coffee 

and a cigarette. 

Servant. Yes, madam. 

[Goes out. 



THE TRUTH 79 

Becky. [Beaming,] Come to tell us of the 
reconciliation ! 

Warder. Why she didn't let him go and be 
thankful! I don't see what she can love in a 
little outsider like Lindon ! 

Becky. Thank Heaven all women don't love 
the same kind of a man ! [Steals a car ess.] Think 
what an awful fight there'd be ! 

Servant. [Coming hack.] Mrs. Lindon sends 
this message — she wishes to see Mr. Warder. 

[Becky and Warder look at each other, surprised 
and amused. Becky makes a grimace. 

Warder. Very well, show Mrs. Lindon in. 

Servant. Yes, sir. 

[Goes out. 

Warder. More trouble! 

Becky. They've quarrelled again already! It 
must have been his fault. 



8o THE TRUTH 

[Servant shows in Mrs. Lindon and goes out. 

Mrs. Lindon. [To Warder, not noticing 
Becky.] How do you do? 

Warder. How do you do, Eve? 

Becky. How do you do, Eve! Sit down. 

Mrs. Lindon. I wish to see Tom for a mo- 
ment, Becky. 

Becky. What for? 

Mrs. Lindon. I wish to see him alone. 

Becky. Why? 

Mrs. Lindon. That, Becky, is my affair — 
and his perhaps! 

Becky. Oh, really! I suppose I ought to be- 
come very jealous now, and do dreadful things. 
[Smiles.] But don't have me for a moment on 
your mind, Tom. 

[Kisses her finger, puts it to Tom's lips, he kisses 
it, and she goes out Right. 



THE TRUTH 8i 

Warder. What is it, Eve? You know I have 
no earthly secrets from Becky. 

Mrs. Lindon. It's about her secrets from you I 

Warder. Nonsense! 

\H.al] laughs, 

Mrs. Lindon. [Sitting in the chair hy the 
table near Centre.'] I only hinted at things the 
other day — and only hinted at one-half the 
truth. 

Warder. [Sitting on the sofa.] Excuse me, 
Eve, but you've got hold of the wrong half. I 
asked Becky outright — that is our way always. 
She denied practically all you said. 

Mrs. Lindon. You can't make me believe 
you've lived as long as you have with Becky 
Roland and not found out — she lies. 

Warder. [Rises quickly in anger.] It's because 
you're a woman you dare say that to me, but you 

G 



82 THE TRUTH 

know I don't have to listen to you, so don't push 

our old friendship's claim too far. 

Mrs. Lindon. I said Becky and Fred met often 
on the sly. 

Warder. [Sitting again.] Which isn't true! 

Mrs. Lindon. No! They meet every day I 

Warder. Eve, I think your trouble has gone 
to your brain. 

Mrs. Lindon. [Still quietly, hut with the quiet 
of the crater when the volcano is alive beneath.] I 
can prove to you that Becky has seen Fred every 
day and more than that ! When we had our talk 
two days ago, they had agreed together that he 
was to go through a form of reconciliation with me 
for appearance' sake, and their meetings were to 
continue. She had an appointment with him for 
yesterday. 



THE TRUTH 83 

Warder. That I know isn't true, for she swore 
to me the opposite. 

Mrs. Lindon. Yes, you frightened her off and 
she broke the engagement by telephone, which 
made Fred perfectly furious! 

Warder. \Rising, goes to mantel and knocks 
his cigar ashes into the graie; absolutely uncon- 
vinced, he continues with a cynical smile.] And 
how did you obtain this decidedly intimate infor- 
mation ? 

Mrs. Lindon. [In an outburst, the volcano 
becoming a little active.] From him! I knew 
they hadn't met for two days — 

Warder. [Interrupting.] How? 

[He looks up curiously. 

Mrs. Lindon. [Rises and turns away, a little 
ashamed.] I've had Fred watched for weeks ! 



84 THE TRUTH 

Warder. [Astonished, rises.] You mean 
you've — 

[He hesitates. 

Mrs. Lindon. Yes ! [Coming to the desk, and speak- 
ing across it to him.] I took their not meeting for a 
sign that after all Becky had given him up, and I 
had the impulse to go to him — to go back home. 
He turned on me like a wolf — said I'd meddled 
with his affairs once too often — that I'd frightened 
Becky into breaking off with him, that he had 
been on the point of making up with me for the 
reason I've told you, but now it was done for! 
I'd raised your suspicions, I'd given the whole 
thing away to everybody, and I could congratulate 
myself on having broken off his and my relations 
for good — forever ! Oh, how could he insult 
me so when it was only his love I was asking 
for? 



THE TRUTH 85 

\S}ie sinks down in the chair above the table, and 

buries her face in her hands and sobs. 
Warder. [Forgets himself and exclaims.] But 
how can you — how can you still care for him after 
everything you've gone through ? It's beyond my 
understanding ! 

[He throws his cigar angrily into the fireplace. 
Mrs, Lindon. The history of the world is full 
of women who love like me, but no men — I don't 
know why; but I suppose that's why you can't 
understand it. Why couldn't he reahze it is for 
happiness not appearances I've been fighting? 
And now it's over, for I know when he means 
what he says — and he told me, like a low brute, 
I could go to — where you can imagine — for 
all he cares, or for all he'll ever live with me 
again. 

[Her voice fills up again. 



86 THE TRUTH 

Warder. I should think if you went to the 
address he proposed, it would insure at least an 
eventual meeting! 

Mrs. Lindon. \W}io has not heard and does 
not understand.] What? 

Warder. I beg your pardon! I made a 
foolish joke! Well? [With a hearty long breath 
of relief.] Now do you feel better? 

Mrs. Lindon. [Feebly, not understanding.] 
Better? 

Warder. Yes, now you've got it all "off your 
chest"? To-morrow you'll be all right and 
ready to forgive again. Shall I call Becky? 

[Going toward the bell beside the manteL 

Mrs. Lindon. [Rises.] You're going to ac- 
cuse her before me? 

Warder. [Stops and turns.] Accuse her? 
[Laughs.] No — I don't believe a word you've 



THE TRUTH 87 

told me. I'd take Becky's unspoken denial 
against Fred's sworn statement any day. 

Mrs. Lindon. [Going to him.] Then here's 
yesterday's report from the agency ! — and Thurs- 
day's, and Thursday's includes the report of the 
telephone central who connected Becky with 
our house when she broke off the appointment 
with Fred, — that telephone girl has told us many 
interesting things! 

Warder. Stop! Stop this! I won't listen 
to you — at any rate not behind Becky's back. 
I'm not a jealous, suspicious woman with good 
reason to believe the worst. I'm a straightfor- 
ward, decent man, I hope, and I know I've every 
reason to believe absolutely in my wife, God 
bless her! [He moves away and then turns upon 
her.] Why have you come and told me this, any- 
way ? 



SS THE TRUTH 

Mrs. Lindon. [Staggered.] Why — why? 

Warder. [Angry.] Yes, why? to me of all 
people! I was the last person you should have 
told, as a matter of breeding, as a matter of tact, 
as a matter of the friendship you talk about. 

Mrs. Lindon. But that was just it! 

Warder. Do you dream what it would mean 
to me to shake even by a miserable tremor my 
confidence in my wife? But you haven't! 

Mrs. Lindon. I thought, and I still think, it's 
to your advantage to know. 

Warder. [With a complete change of voice, 
from anger to the tone one adopts with a silly child.] 
My dear Eve, while I don't for a minute excuse 
him, still I do now understand, perhaps, how even 
Fred Lindon must have found your ideas of devo- 
tion at times over the endurance line. 

Mrs. Lindon. You don't understand, — I 



THE TRUTH 89 

thought if you knew everything, together we could 
separate them — could arrange something. 

Warder. Eve ! believe me, there's nobody 
to separate in this case; there's nothing, so far as 
I and mine are concerned, to arrange. 

\He goes again to the hell by the mantel. 

Mrs. Lindon. Who are you going to ring for? 

Warder. You know. 

Mrs. Lindon. [Stopping him quickly.] Not be- 
fore me ! I don't want to see her humiliated. I 
don't want a public revenge or triumph; that's 
not the feeling I have. 

Warder. What in the world do you mean? 
[He rings.] Becky will deny the — 

Mrs. Lindon. [Interrupting.] Very likely! 
But these proofs are incombatible, and if that's 
her attitude, I shall go straight from your door to 
the divorce court. 



90 THE TRUTH 

\She places the envelope of reports on the table 
with a blow. 

Warder. [Goes to her.] You're mad ! If your 
proofs are all right, then Becky'll not deny, she'll 
explain them. You forget you can only see 
everything red now, but I'm sane and quiet and 
sure [Smiling.], and I see things in their true 
colors. You must be guided by me in this. [He 
takes her hand almost cruelly and speaks strongly ^ 
with the manner and voice of the man who is and 
means to remain master.] Do you understand 
that? [She draws her hand away as if in pain.] 
I beg your pardon. I am afraid you are one of 
those dangerous "well-meaning" persons who do 
more harm than the people who are purposely 
malicious. You are to take no step without my 
sanction. 

[Becky comes in with a certain air of bravado. 



THE TRUTH 91 

Becky. Excuse me, I heard the bell and I was 
waiting — am I right ? 

Warder. \Goes to her.] Come right in, dear. 

Becky. Well! has Eve thrown a bomb, or a 
trump card? Am I to be taken into the secret 
or conspiracy or what? 

Warder. [After a second's pause, in which he 
thinks how to begin.] Eve has convinced herself, 
and would convince me, of some very — [He thinks 
for the word.] wrong — worse than wrong things, 
but I prefer to be convinced of the contrary by 
you. And I prefer to come to you with my con- 
fidence, my conviction complete. And together 
we'll try to keep Eve from harming others as well 
as herself and Lindon — the latter seems unavoid- 
able. [Eve pushes her papers on the desk point- 
edly nearer to him. He ignores them.] Eve says 
you've not been seeing Lindon often, but every day. 



92 THE TRUTH 

Becky. Do you want me to deny it? 

Warder. [Indulgently.] I want you to tell 
the truth. 

Becky. Of course the accusation and the idea 
behind it are absurd. [Warder turns and looks 
at Mrs. Lindon, who meets his glance and then 
looks down at the evidence on the table, pushing 
the papers a little farther toward him. He does 
not follow her glance. Becky half laughs.] It's 
like a trial, isn't it? By what right does Eve — 

Mrs. Lindon. [Interrupting.] The supreme 
right of any married woman who cares for her 
husband. Shall I be more explicit? 

Becky. No, you needn't trouble ! What next, 
Tom? 

Warder. Eve claims you had an engagement 
with Fred — 

[Hesitates, trying to remember the day. 



THE TRUTH 93 

Mrs. Lindon. [Quickly.] Day before yester- 
day. 

Warder. Which you broke off over the tele- 
phone. 

Becky. How does she know that? Does she 
tap our wire? Merciful Heavens, Eve, you've 
become so morbid over your trouble your mind's 
diseased on the subject of Fred — and everybody 
else apparently. 

Mrs. Lindon. Ha! 

Warder. But is this true, Becky? 

Becky. [To gain time.] Is what true? 

Warder. About this appointment with Fred 
which you broke over the — 

Becky. [Interrupting.] Of course not! 

Warder. [Who begins to doubt her.] If it were, 
you could easily explain it, I'm sure. 

[Hoping to suggest this course to her. 



94 THE TRUTH 

Becky. {Her head lost.] Of course — but 
there*s nothing to explain! The whole thing's 
false! What do you take me for, Eve? If you 
think I'm a home destroyer, you've made a mis- 
take in the bird ! And what do you mean by 
coming into my precious home and trying to make 
trouble for me? 

[Sitting on the sofa, frightened and almost in 
tears. 

Warder. Wait a minute, Becky, it's partly 
my fault. 

Becky. It is not! I know whose fault it is, 
and I must say that, at last, I don't blame Fred 
Lindon ! 

Mrs. Lindon. Oh! 

Becky. There ! I'm sorry I said that. When 
I'm excited like this I speak the truth straight 
out, no matter what happens! 



THE TRUTH 95 

Warder. Well really it was I who insisted 
on your joining us, against Eve's will. \To Mrs. 
LiNDON.] Your way was best. It was my man's 
point of view — \To Becky.] and you are right, 
under the circumstances, no doubt, to answer as 
you do. 

Becky. My dear Tom, there's no other way 
to answer. 

Warder. \Loolis at her, then takes up the 
envelope containing the detective reports and holds 
them tightly in his hand. He comes down to Mrs. 
LiNDON.] If you will leave us alone, I will go over 
the whole matter with Becky, — by ourselves 
will be much better. 

Mrs. Lindon. I need hardly tell you those 
papers are most valuable to me. 

Becky. [Looking up, her cimosity aroused.] 
What papers? 



96 THE TRUTH 

[Nohody answers her. She tries to see. 

Mrs. Lindon. Will you promise me not to 
let them out of your hands till you put them back 
into mine? 

Warder. I will. 

Mrs. Lindon. [As she moves to go, stops.] 
You will find the entries which are of particular 
interest to you marked on the margin with a 
red cross! 

Warder. [Satirically.] Thank you! 

[Becky rises and rings for the Servant. Mrs. 
Lindon goes out. 

Becky. [Coming to meet Warder.] I think 
I'm a pretty good-natured woman to let Eve — 

Warder. [Stands before Becky with his hands 
on her shoulders, making her look straight into his 
eyes.] Now be careful, dearest. You've married 
a man who doesn't understand a suspicious nature 



THE TRUTH 97 

— who has every confidence in you and the deep- 
est — a confidence that couldn't be easily dis- 
turbed; but once it was shaken, every unborn 
suspicion of all the past years would spring to 
life fullgrown and strong at their birth, and God 
knows if my confidence could ever come back. 
It never has in any of the smaller trials of it I've 
made in my life. So you'll be careful, won't you, 
dearest? I mean even in little things. My faith 
in you is what gives all the best light to my life, 
but it's a live wire — neither you nor I can afford 
to play with it. 

\Goes to the writing table and takes the papers 
out of Eve's envelope. 

Becky. Tom, you frighten me ! Eve has made 
you jealous again. [Goes to him and puts both 
arms about his neck.] Now, my darling, I give 
you my word of honor I love only you and never 

H 



98 THE TRUTH 

have loved Fred Lindon and never could ! Say 

you believe me I 

Warder. Haven't I always believed you? 

Becky. Ye s. 

Warder. But if I find your word of honor is 
broken in one thing, how can I ever trust it in 
another ? 

Becky. Of course you can't, — but you needn't 
worry, because it won't be broken. 

Warder. Then, now we're alone, tell me the 
truth, which you didn't tell me when you said 
you'd not seen Lindon often. 

Becky. ]Turns away.] It was the truth. I 
haven't — so very often. 

Warder. Not every day? 

Becky. [Sits in the chair by the writing-table.] 
How could I? 

Warder. Nor telephoned him Thursday, break- 



THE TRUTH 99 

ing off an engagement ajter you told me abso- 
lutely you^d parted with him for good — and 
had no appointment? 

Becky. Of course not! The idea! [But she 
shows she is a little worried.'] Eve Lindon never 
could tell the truth! 

Warder. The telephone girl must have lied 
too or else the statement was made out of whole 
cloth. 

[Throwing the envelope on the desk, 
Becky. What statement? 
Warder. [Sitting on sofa.] From these detec- 
tives, 

[He begins to look through the papers, 
Becky. Detectives! [Stunned.] What detec- 
tives ? 
[Picks up envelope and looks at it, puts it back 
on desk. ^_Q^ 



100 THE TRUTH 

Warder. Eve's, who have shadowed her hus- 
band for the past two months. 

Becky. [Thoroughly alarmed,'] You don't 
mean — 

Warder. [Interrupts^ not hearing what Becky 
says; his thoughts on the papers which he is read- 
ing, he speaks very quietly.] These certainly do 
make out a case of daily meetings for you two. 

Becky. It's not true! 

Warder. Though not so very many here. 

[Turning over a fresh paper. 

Becky. [Rises, gets above desk.] All! All the 
meetings there have been, — practically. This is 
simply awful ! Eve is capable of making the most 
terrific scandal for nothing. Don't let her, Tom, 
will you? Tear those things up! 

Warder. [Smiling indulgently, not taking her 
seriously.] Becky 1 



THE TRUTH loi 

Becky. [Leaning over the table, stretches out 
her hand toward him.] Well, let me! Let me 
take them from you without your noticing till 
it's too late ! 

Warder. [Seriously.] You're not serious? 

Becky. I am! 

Warder. You heard me give Eve my word? 

Becky. To a mad woman like that it doesn't 
count. 

Warder. I wonder just how much your word 
does count with you, Becky! 

Becky. [With great and injured dignity.] 
It counts everything! 

Warder. They seem to have hit on some very 
out-of-the-way places for your rendezvous. [He 
smiles.] Where is Ruber's museum? 

Becky. Why, it's down on Fourteenth — [She 
interrupts herself quickly.] I don't know where it is ! 



102 THE TRUTH 

\She moves away to colled herself. 

Warder. \Still smiling.] And why the Wash- 
ington Heights Inn in February? Or the Eden 
Musee ever? 

Becky. Of course some one else has been 
mistaken for me. 

Warder. [Looks up.] Ah! yes, that's a very 
possible idea. 

Becky. [Goes to the sofa and sits beside him.] 
Tom, don't read any more of the horrid things! 
Listen to me, don't let Eve go on. She'll ruin 
everything if she does. He'll never forgive her, 
never take her back. 

Warder. [Reading and smiling.] I didn't know 
you skated! 

Becky. I always loved skating. I only gave 
it up because it bored you. But I didn't skate 
then! 



THE TRUTH 103 

Warder. When? 

Becky. I — I don't — oh, whenever that beast 
says! 

Warder. St. Nicholas Rink, Friday, February 
eighteenth. \IIe has noticed the slip she madey 
but hides the fact; he speaks as he goes on read- 
ing.] Eve and her husband have had a big 
row, and he swears he'll never see her again, 
not even in the other place, that she's come be- 
tween you and him and that he'll never forgive. 

[He finishes seriously ^ his bantering manner gone. 

Becky. Oh, how untrue ! I don't believe he 
said any such thing. Eve's jealous mind has 
distorted something else. The reason for our 
friendship — [He rises with a half-angry move- 
ment, goes above the table looking for the envelope.] 
such as it is — was to bring Eve and him together. 

Warder. From your point of view. 



I04 THE TRUTH 

Becky. No, believe me, he isn't as bad as you 
think. 

Warder. [Showing the papers.] And what 
about these? They agree with me. 

Becky. If you believe those papers about him, 
then you must believe them about me. 

Warder. [Coming to her.] Heaven forbid, 
Becky ! They would prove you a liar and a 
terrible one — which you're not^ are you ? 

Becky. How can you ask? 

Warder. If these were true — if I thought 
you had deceived me to such an extent — I could 
never trust you again so long as I lived, Becky. 

Becky. Shall you speak to Mr. Lindon about 
them? 

Warder. No, I wouldn't insult you by dis- 
cussing you with Lindon, unless I was convinced 
every word and more here was true. I will see 



THE TRUTH 105 

Eve to-morrow and perhaps get hold of these 
detectives myself. 

Becky. [Almost trembling with dread.] And 
now go and have your game. You need it! 
You're getting morbid. You'll be believing these 
beastly things if you don't get some exercise. 

Warder. What time is it? 

Becky. [She looks at clock on the mantel, and 
speaks with her face still away from him.] Three. 
When will you be back? 

[She conceals her anxiety to hear his answer. 

Warder. Oh, six, I suppose. 

Becky. [Facing him with a certain relief.] 
Not till six — you're sure ? 

Warder. Yes, you know your father's coming 
and there's no necessity of my seeing him. 

Becky. Oh! I forgot all about father's tele- 
gram! If it's money, I'm to be firm? 



io6 THE TRUTH 

Warder. Absolutely. 

Becky. [Taking hold of the envelope which 
he has in his left hand away from her.] What are 
you going to do with those? 

Warder. You heard me tell Eve they shouldn't 
go out of my hands except into hers. 

[He gently hut -firmly removes her hand from 
the envelope. 

Becky. And you meant it? 

Warder. Don't you mean a promise you give 
like that? 

Becky. Yes, of course. . * . 

Warder. [Taking out his keys.] I'm going to 
put them away in my room. I want to have a 
thorough, careful look through them later. Of 
course I can't let it rest here. The detectives 
must learn their mistake at once. 



THE TRUTH 107 

Becky. Yes, of course. But you are going 
to the Welds' now for your game? 

Warder. Yes, good-by. 

\Presses her hand. Gives her a tender but 
questioning look, but does not kiss her, and 
then goes out. 

Becky. He's begun to distrust me already. 
Dear God in Heaven, if I ever get out of this, 
I'll never tell another lie so long as I live ! [She 
turns to the window. Smiles to Warder outside 
and throws him a kiss, but afterward her face at 
once assumes its frightened look. Coming from the 
window, she sinks upon the piano stool.] He^s got 
to save me ! Now he can prove that he is worthy 
a decent woman's friendship. [She goes to the 
telephone and calls.] Hello ! Hello ! [She suddenly 
realizes.] But I can't use the telephone ! Central 
has told things already ! [She hangs up the receiver. 



io8 THE TRUTH 

The telephone hell rings. \ I must write him. \The 
hell rings again. She takes up the receiver and 
speaks angrily.] Hello? . . . No, I didn't ring. 
You've made a mistake. [Hangs up the receiver.] 
You telltale toad you! [She writes.] "If this 
note reaches you in time, please come over" — 
I ought to be able to get rid of father in half an 
hour — [She looks up at the clock.] "at half -past 
three." [Seals note and addresses it.] "Impor- 
tant." 

[Which she underlines. 
Servant. [Entering Left, announces.] Mr. Ro- 
land. 

[Roland is an elderly, dried-up little man with 
an air of the dandy jockey still clinging to 
him underneath his gray hairs and dyed mous- 
tache. A vivid carnation is in his huttonhole 
and a somewhat rusty springiness in his gait. 



THE TRUTH 109 

RoLiCND. \Coming in jauntily. ^ Hello, Beck ! 
Becky. \With jictitioiis spirit.] Father! 
[He starts to kiss her, forgetting the ever present 
cigarette in his mouth; then he stops to re- 
7nove it, and does kiss her. 
Roland. How are you? 

Becky. I'm awfully glad to see you, but you 
can't stay long. Excuse me just a moment. 
Jenks, I want you to ring for a messenger and 
give him — [Stops.] no, when he comes, send him 
to me. 

[She has started to give Jenks the note, but 

changes her mind. Jenks bows and turns to 

leave. 

Roland. I say, Becky, might I have a glass 

of brandy ? I took coffee after lunch on the train 

and it's poisoned me. Must have been canned 

coffee ! 



no THE TRUTH 

Becky. Very well, Jenks. 

\The Servant goes out Lejt. 

Roland. [Lolling on the sofa.] What the devil 
did you mean by sending me fifty dollars instead 
of five hundred? 

Becky. [Surprised.] I read it fifty! I never 
dreamed you^d ask for five hundred more! 

[Going toward him. 

Roland. I wrote five hundred and I must have 
it! 

Becky. My dear father, it's impossible. I 
tried as it was to get a little more from Tom, but 
he said "no," to send you the fifty dollars, with 
his love, but not one penny more, and to make 
you understand — and, father, he means it — 
that for the future you must keep within your 
allowance. 



THE TRUTH iii 

\The Servant enters with the brandy on a 

salver, and pours out a liqueur glass full, 
Roland. But you'll help me? 
Becky. [Sitting on the opposite end oj the soja.] 
No, he forbids it, and in the future I'm going to 
do what Tom wishes, and never deceive him even 
in a little thing again. [To the Servant who 
hands the glass of brandy to Roland.] The mes- 
senger boy hasn't come yet? 
Servant. No, madam. 

Becky. If he doesn't come in five minutes, 
ring again. 
Servant. Yes, madam. 

[Starting to go, Roland stops him. 
Roland. Not so fast! 

[He points to the glass which he has emptied and 
the Servant pours otit another glass. Roland 
takes it and puts it on the table behind him. 



112 THE TRUTH 

The Servant busies himselj with gathering 
up the ajter-dinner coffee cups and trying to 
overhear all that he can. 

Becky. How is Mrs. Crespigny? 

Roland. That woman will be the death or the 
marriage of me! 

Becky. Don't be absurd, father! She's given 
you the most comfortable home you've had for 
years. In that letter she wrote me she said she'd 
been a real mother to you. 

Roland. The mother is a blind, a false lead 
to hide her hand ! her trumps are marriage. 

Becky. Nonsense ! Mrs. Crespigny must real- 
ize the difference in your positions. 

Roland. You haven't lived with her social 
souvenirs as I have for four years ! [The Servant 
starts to take up the glass which Roland has put 
aside, hut the latter stops him. The Servant has 



THE TRUTH 113 

delayed over his work as long as he dares in his 
desire to listen, and now goes out Lejt.] Becky, are 
you and Tom hungering for a mother-in-law? 

Becky. I don't know what you mean? 

Roland. It's a question of five hundred dollars 
for me or a new Mrs. Roland ! 

Becky. [Astounded.] You don't mean you owe 
Mrs. Crespigny that money? 

Roland. Well, I've not paid my board bill as 
regularly as I might have wished. 

Becky. [Rises, indignant.] I'm ashamed of 
you! 

Roland. I'm ashamed of myself, but shame 
won't pay bills; if it would, there'd have been 
many an unpaid debt washed off the slate in this 
world. 

[The Servant returns with a messenger hoy. 

Servant. The messenger, madam. 



114 THE TRUTH 

[Becky goes to the hoy. During Becky's talk 
with the messenger, Roland fills his pocket 
with cigars from the box on the table. 

Becky. I want you to take this note to its ad- 
dress, but only leave it in case the gentleman is in. 
Do you understand? 

Messenger. Yes, ma'am. 

Becky. And come back and tell me. 

Messenger. Yes, ma'am. 

[He goes out with the Servant, who has waited 
for him. 

Roland. I confess, my child, I have flirted a 
little with the dame in question. 

Becky. Father I 

Roland. I have, in a way, led her on! 

Becky. And you always told me my mother's 
memory was the one precious thing left, that 
you meant to keep always untouched by your life ! 



THE TRUTH 115 

Roland. I don't deny, Becky, I'd be ashamed 
of it. I don't pretend Mrs. Crespigny would be 
a solace or a substitute; she would, at the best 
perhaps, be a resource, — but what she threatens 
to become unless I pay is a legal necessity! 

Becky. Could she do that? 

Roland. I have been obliged at times by des- 
perate need of ready money to suggest to her cer- 
tain things as probabilities which were barely 
remote possibilities ! And unfortunately — un- 
fortunately — once or twice in writing. 

Becky. She has compromising letters of yours ? 

Roland. She has a large collection of illus- 
trated postal cards from every place I've been 
since I've lodged with her, — they are her chief ar- 
tistic dissipation — and a double set of Baltimore 
Duplicates, which I am afraid are the most foolish ; 
as I am in the habit of making up with her in that 



ii6 THE TRUTH 

way after little tiffs when she takes the stand of 

not being on speaking terms with me. 

Becky. Father! You've been a terrible idiot. 

Roland. I have, my dear! 

Becky. Can't you get those cards back? 

Roland. The rent due is ''Mother's" price 
for them. \Rising.\ You will make Tom give it 
to me, won't you? and I'll promise not to make 
such a fool of myself again. 

[Sitiing on the arm of the sofa, drawing Becky 
toward him and putting both his arms about 
her, 

Becky. Tom's idea now is that you deserve 
all you get. He'll say you deserve Mrs. Cres- 
pigny. 

{Leaving him, she goes above the table. 

Roland. Oh, come, she's not so bad as that! 

Becky. How old is she? 



THE TRUTH 117 

Roland. She has told me several ages. The 
general average would make her about forty-seven 
and a quarter. 

Becky. Pretty? 

Roland. A fine figure of a woman and plays 
an A-one game of piquet. 

Becky. I see ! When did her husband die ? 

Roland. He didn't die. He stole from the 
bank in which he was employed and went to jail, 
and she says for social reasons she was naturally 
obliged to take advantage of the divorce law. I 
have a suspicion myself he may have preferred jail 1 

Becky. \Comes quickly to him.] Father, I 
would never forgive you if you did such a thing! 
It's degrading to me and to my mother's memory 
for you to accept any sort of indulgence at that 
woman's hands ! When we get her paid, you 
must leave her house. 



ii8 THE TRUTH 

Roland. That I can't and won't do, because 
I'm far too comfortable ! 

Servant. [Entering Left, announces.] Mrs. 
Crespigny ! 
Roland. [Jumps up.] Mrs. who? 
[Mrs. Crespigny comes in -fiamhoyantly. She 
is a woman past the age of uncertainty, dressed 
gaudily, with an hour-glass figure; she has 
innumerable bracelets and bangles, and an imita- 
tion jewelled chain flaunts a heavy pair of lor- 
gnettes, like a gargoyle hafiging over a much- 
curved bust. Enormous wax pearls in her 
ears are in direct contrast to the dark begin- 
nings of her otherwise russet-gold hair. 
Neither her shoes nor her stays fit, and both 
are too tight. She is brightly rouged, and yet 
the very failure of the fagade reveals, somehow, 



THE TRUTH 119 

the honest interior oj a human if forlornly 
foolish female. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Excuse me for intruding 
myself which I know is not social good form. 
Mis' Warder, I take it? 

[Becky hows. 

Roland. [Angrily.] What do you mean by 
following me here? 

Mrs. Crespigny. [After severe look at him, 
turns hack to Becky.] I want you to know the facts 
as between your father and me, and just how the 
matter is, and get your support that I done right ! 
[To Roland.] I know your daughter is a lady 
if you ain't, and being a lady myself I have a cer- 
tain pride. [To Becky.] I've had a good deal of 
trouble persuading your father that though a lady 
sometimes takes in a paying guest she still holds 
her own in the social scale. I have friends of my 



I20 THE TRUTH 

own in the New York Smart Set! My niece 
married a Mr. Gubenhamers and lives in a per- 
fectly elegant house of her own on Lennox Avenue. 
Do you know her? One thousand two hundred 
and fifty-three ? 

Becky. No. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Oh, don't you? Well, of 
course I know New York is big. Still, perhaps 
you know her husband's cousin, who is also in a 
way a relation ? You will know her by name — 
Mrs. Otto Gurtz, President of the West Side Ladies 
Saturday Afternoon Social Gathering? 

Becky. No, I'm afraid I don't know her. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Well ! I guess you don't read 
the Harlem society notes in the papers; if you did, 
you'd know what she stands for socially. 

Becky. Suppose we keep to the reason of your 
vicit — I understand my father owes you money — 



THE TRUTH 121 

[Mrs. Crespigny turns sharply to Roland.] and 
that you insist on being paid, which is natural — 

Mrs. Crespigny. A trumped-up story! \Go- 
ing to Roland.] I guess I done just about the 
right thing to chase on here after you ! I'm sorry 
to say it, Mis' Warder, 'specially as it ain't exactly 
ladylike, but your father, with all his superfine 
qualities, is a liar! Yes, ma'am, between us two 
as ladies, he's an ornery liar ! 

\Sinks into a chair in tears. Roland lights a 
cigarette angrily and goes up to the window. 

Becky. Mrs. Crespigny, wouldn't it be better 
to behave more like a lady and talk less about one ? 
Why break into the house of a woman you don't 
know and make a scene over a matter of rent due 
you — 

Mrs. Crespigny. It ain't the rent! It's all 
a question of horses. When he left my house 



122 THE TRUTH 

this morning, he said he was leaving for good un- 
less I let him have — 

Roland. [Interrupting her.] Mrs. Crespigny! 
You're hysterical! You're saying things you'll 
regret — 

Servant. [Entering, Left.] The messenger has 
come back, madam. 

Becky. Oh, I want to see that boy! Excuse 
me a minute. 

[She hurries out and the Servant follows her, 

Roland. I knew you were in the train; that's 
why I staid in the smoker. And it decided 
me to keep my word never to go back to your 
house ! 

[He sits determinedly in the arm-chair at Left, 

Mrs. Crespigny. And you told her I was dun- 
ning you for the rent ! 

Roland. She has no more sympathy with my 



THE TRUTH 123 

betting than you have! I wouldn't tell her the 
money was to put on Wet Blanket, Monday! 

Mrs. Crespigny. \Rises and goes to him.] No, 
you'd rather let her think I was a grasping harpy, 
when you know, if the truth's told, you owe me at 
least five times five hundred dollars with your 
borrowings and your losses at cards ! 

Roland. [Smilingly.] You haven't won lately. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Do you know why? 

Roland. Oh, of course! You got out of the 
wrong side of the bed or you dreamed of a black 
horse ! 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Pathetically and a little 
ashamed.] No. I've let you win a-purpose — 
because I was ashamed for you to owe me any 
more money. I'm trying to keep a little pride in 
you somehow, even if I have to cheat to do it. 

[She almost breaks down again, and turning 



124 THE TRUTH 

away, takes a powder pufj jrom a little gilt 
box and powders her nose to cover up the traces 
of tears. 

Roland. Well, do you think it's pleasant for 
me to owe you money? A kind friend like you! 
[Going to the mantel and -flicking his cigarette ash 
in the fireplace.] One reason I want to take ad- 
vantage of this tip for Monday is to pay you if I 
win. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Yes, and then go board 
somewhere else? Is that your idea? Or to 
stay here ? 

Roland. Well, my daughter and her husband 
want me. [Leaning on the mantel.'] They say 
their home is my home. 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Going toward him, alarmed.] 
But you won't stay, will you? I left word with 
Josephine to have your favorite meenoo cooked 



THE TRUTH 125 

for a late supper in case you'd come back. We'll 
have a game to-night. I'll play you a rubber for 
the five hundred — it's against my conscience to 
give it to you outright for horse-racing. 

Roland. Loan it to me! 

Mrs. Crespigny. Yes, of course! I always 
mean loan. Oh, the flat'd be just too dreadful 
lonesome without you! Say you'll come back! 
Quick, before Mis' Warder comes in! Won't 
you? 

Roland. [Coming toward her.] Well, if you 
make it a personal favor to you in this way, I can't 
exactly refuse! And that ends the most serious 
quarrel we've had yet. 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Embarrassedly.] If we was 
man and wife, there wouldn't be any need of such 
quarrels. The money'd be yours then to do as 
you liked with. 



126 THE TRUTH 

Roland. Don't tempt me! You know you're 
a great deal too kind to me as it is and I'm no 
good to take as much advantage of you as I do. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Oh, pshaw! Say! I wish 
you'd help me to get on the right side of your 
daughter. You're too delicate to say anything, 
but I always suspect it's her that stands between 
us. 

Becky. [Coming back.] I'm very sorry, but you 
must go at once. I have an important engage- 
ment here in a few minutes and must change my 
dress. I will promise you, Mrs. Crespigny — 

Roland. [Interrupts.] I have made an arrange- 
ment with Mrs. Crespigny that is agreeable to her, 
without Tom's and your assistance — 

Becky. [Alarmed.] Father, not — 

Roland. [Shakes his head.] It seems I exag- 
gerated my indebtedness a little and Mrs. Cres- 



THE TRUTH 127 

pigny exaggerated her desire to be paid this month 
and — 

Mrs. Crespigny. Yes, I was just mad clean 
through and would have said anything ! 

Becky. Well, I'm glad it's settled, but it seems 
a pity you couldn't have accomplished it without 
the railway journey, especially as I must ask you 
to excuse me at once. 
\S}ie guides Mrs. Crespigny toward the door 
'^ Left, hut Mrs. Crespigny, instead 0} going 
out, makes a circle around an arm-chair and 
settles herself in it. Becky goes despairingly 
to Roland. 
Mrs. Crespigny. Oh, I don't regret the trip 
over, because I've been dying to meet you. Mis' 
Warder, ever since I had the pleasure of knowing 
your father in a taty taty sort of way. And we 
can catch the four-fifteen. 



128 THE TRUTH 

Becky. Good ! [Crossing to her, and holding 
out her hand.] I'm sorry I can't ask you to stay. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Oh, I can come over nearly 
any day 1 I've got such a perfectly lovely servant 
girl now. I give her every night out and she works 
like a dog all day — and you can trust her with 
everything! Can't you, Mr. Roland? 

Roland. You can trust her with me all right. 
[Mrs. Crespigny laughs loudly. 

Becky. Father ! 

Mrs. Crespigny. Ain't he killing! Do you 
inherit his sense of humor? He can get anything 
he wants out of me with just one of them witty- 
cisms. [Roland winks aside to Becky.] Of 
course, I won't say that he ain't an expensive 
boarder — [Becky sinks in the chair near Centre, 
discouraged.] — but I consider he cuts both ways 
and at the finish the ends meets. 



THE TRUTH 129 

Becky. I think I gather what you mean. I'm 
afraid you'll lose your train ! 

Mrs. Crespigny. I mean it's hard for a lady 
what's got it in her blood, to take boarders, be- 
cause usually the boarders is beneath what the lady's 
been accustomed to and she don't feel at home 
with 'em. Now with your father it's different, 
because he's a Roland and I'm a Crespigny. 

Becky. Oh, is that your own name? I 
thought — 

Roland. [Interrupting.^ No, Mrs. Crespigny 's 
maiden name was Ruggles. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Yes, mamma made what 
we'd call a messy Hance, married beneath her, you 
know. But she never descended, nor allowed us 
to neither, to papa's social level. Mamma was 
a O'Roorke. You know, one of them early 



I30 THE TRUTH 

high-toned families that came over from Am- 
sterdam in the Mayflower. 

Becky. I see! 

Mrs. Crespigny. Mamma often said to me, 
says she, "Jennie" — 

Becky. \With her patience exhausted, jumps up, 
interrupting her.} I must say good-by now — IVe 
no time to dress. 

[She hurries out Right. 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Rising.] Well, do you think 
I made any sort of a hit with her? 

Roland. My dear friend, IVe told you before, 
you're not quite my daughter's style. 

Mrs. Crespigny. But why not? She seems 
real refined. 

[Roland groans. Warder comes in Left. He 
does not see Mrs. Crespigny on his entrance. 

Warder. Hello, father! I didn't think I was 



THE TRUTH 131 

going to have this pleasure. I had an engage- 
ment to play racquets with Billy Weld, but he 
broke down in his motor somewhere between 
Tuxedo and here and I couldn't wait. 

[Mrs. Crespigny comes a jew steps and beckons 

to Roland to introduce Warder. 
Roland. Mrs. Crespigny, Mr. Warder. 
Mrs. Crespigny. [Bows.] Pleased to make 
your acquaintance. 

[She turns away with a rather grand manner. 
Warder looks from her to Roland and shakes 
his head, then goes to the writing-table with 
some letters he has brought in jroin the hall. 
Roland. Excuse me one moment. [Beckons 
to Mrs. Crespigny and whispers to her aside.] 
Wait for me ! 
Mrs. Crespigny. In the hall? 
Roland. Lord, no! At the station! 



132 THE TRUTH 

Mrs. Crespigny. Oh! [Going, she turns at 

door to bid Warder good-by.] If you should ever 

be coming over to Baltimore, Mr. Warder, why 

just drop in! 

[She goes out Left, 

Warder. Whereas Becky? 

Roland. [Going to him.] She's upstairs. I 
just wanted to thank you for the money you sent 
me day before yesterday. 

Warder. What money? 

Roland. The check for fifty dollars Becky 
mailed me. 

Warder. [Starts j but controls it immediately.] 
Oh, a check for fifty dollars — 

Roland. The joke on me is that what I wanted 

was five hundred! 

[Digs Tom in ribs. 

Warder. [Looking off where Becky went, 

absorbed in his thoughts.] Oh, five hundred ! 



THE TRUTH 133 

Roland. Yes, just five hundred. [iJe looks 
ai Warder, and waits; hums a song and dances 
a few steps.] Nothing doing, I suppose? 
Warder. No. Father, the fact is — 
Roland. Yes, I know, Becky told me. Ex- 
cuse me, I've got to catch a train. Good-by, my 
boy. 

Warder. [With his thoughts elsewhere.] 
Good-by ! 
[Roland goes out whistling ''Waiting at the 
Church." Warder stands a moment think- 
ings then takes out his key chain. 
Servant. [Entering, shows in Lindon.] Mr. 
Lindon to see Mrs. Warder, sir. 

[Warder looks up with a startj which he im- 
mediately controls, and disguises completely 
his thoughts and emotions. 
Lindon. How are you. Warder? 



134 THE TRUTH 

Warder. [Speaks very casually and pleasantly, 
with complete sell-control.] Good afternoon, Lin- 
don. [Sees Servant about to go to Becky, stops 
him.] Jenks! [Jenks goes to him. Warder 
gives him a key from his chain.] Go to my room 
and get me a large blue envelope from the upper 
right-hand drawer of the desk. 

Jenks. Yes, sir. 

[He goes out Left.] 

Warder. Excuse me, Mrs. Warder is out. 
She'll be sorry. 

LiNDON. [Surprised.] Out? 

Warder. Yes. 

LiNDON. But surely there must be some mis- 
take? 

Warder. No, I'm sorry. I assure you she's 
out. 

LiNDON. Oh I Then do you mind if I wait ? 



THE TRUTH 135 

Warder. Is that scarcely worth while? I 
must be off at once, and I imagine Mrs. Warder 
is out for her usual bridge afternoon. 

LiNDON. I think, on the contrary, she must be 
surely coming back, and if you don't mind, I'll 
wait. 

Warder. \Wiih an apparently good-natured 
laugh.] I don't like to insist against your appar- 
ently superior knowledge — 

LiNDON. [Also smiling.] No, no, it's only a note 
I received a few moments ago at the club. Here 
it is. [Takes it from his pocket.] That she must 
see me this afternoon. You know your wife is 
kindly acting as intermediary between Eve and 
myself. It is in regard to that. [He hands the 
note to Warder, who glances at it and returns it 
without reading.] As it only came half an hour ago, 
I feel sure Mrs. Warder must expect to return soon. 



136 THE TRUTH 

Servant. [Entering with an envelope, which 
he gives to Warder.] That is all I can find, sir. 

Warder. [Humorously.] That^s all I want, 
so it's all right. Jenks, am I wrong in under- 
standing that Mrs. Warder is out? 

Servant. Yes, sir. Mrs. Warder is in, sir. 

Warder. Oh! I beg your pardon, Lindon. 

LiNDON. That's all right. 

Warder. [To Jenks,] Jenks, say to Mrs. 
Warder, Mr. Lindon is here. You needn't say 
anything about me. I'm off. 

Servant. Yes, sir. 

[Goes out Right, 

Lindon. I'm not driving you away, I hope. 

Warder. Oh, no, I have some important 
papers to go over. Make yourself comfortable. 
Good-by. 

Lindon. Thanks, old man. Good-by. 



THE TRUTH 137 

[fl'e sits on the sofa, as Warder goes out Left. 
LiNDON. Well ! She did send for you, Freddy, 
old son! Now's your chance! 

Servant. [Reentering,] Mrs. Warder will be 
down at once. 

LiNDON. Thank you. [The Servant goes out 
Left. LiNDON goes to the piano and sings a verse 
of a song, ^^ Everything comes to him who waits, ^^ 
etc. An idea comes to him. He weighs it, ac- 
cepts it, smiles, and stops playing.] I will! By 
George, I will! 

[He rises. 
[Becky hurries in from the Right and goes 
quickly toward him, crying, '^FredT^ in a tone 
of distress and excitement. She leaves the 
door open behind her. Lindon, before she 
realizes what he is doing, has met her, taken 
her in his arms, and kissed her. She forces 



138 THE TRUTH 

herself away from him, standing for a moment 
speechless with rage and astonishment. 

LiNDON. I told you, didn't I, Becky? 

[Tries to embrace her again, 

Becky. [Slowly and deliberately.] That's just 
exactly what Tom said you'd do! 

LiNDON. What / 

Becky. Ten to one, he said, if I sent for you 
again, you'd kiss me. 

LiNDON. [In alarm and astonishment.] Yes, 
but what — 

Becky. But I wouldn't believe him! I said, 
and I believed, he did you an injustice. 

LiNDON. So you talked me all over with him, 
did you ! Then why did you send for me to-day ? 

Becky. Because I was a fool, if you want the 
true treason! 

LiNDON. My dear Becky — 



THE TRUTH 139 

Becky. Oh, you'll hear more and worse than 
that if you stay to listen ! I advise you to go ! 
You can't help me. I don't trust you. You 
might even make matters v^rorse. It may have 
been all done purposely as it is. 

LiNDON. Oh ! 

Becky. You see I'm ready to believe all I've 
heard of you, now that you've shown your true 
silly self to me in that one sickening moment, and 
I'd rather not be saved at all than be saved by 
you! 

\She leans jor a second against the corner of 
the writing-table. 

LiNDON. How saved? From what? 

Becky. Never mind! I only want to say one 
more thing to you and then go, please. But I 
want this to ring in your ears so long as you re- 
member me ! There is only one man in this world 



14© THE TRUTH 

I love, and that's Tom, and there's only one man 
I despise and that's you! Lindon, Fred Lindon! 
You know who I mean! I know now what our 
friendship meant to you and I wish I could cut 
out of my life every second of every hour I've 
spent with you! I've been a fool woman, and 
you've been a cad, — but thank God, there are 
men in the world — real men — and one is my 
husband. Now go, please ! Eve's a fool not to 
jump at the chance of getting rid of you and I 
shall tell her so. 

\She turns away jrom him with a movement 
of dismissal. 

Lindon. [Going toward her.] Do! For that, 
at least, I shall thank you, as well as for our delight- 
ful friendship, which I am sorry to have end so 
contrary to my expectations. 

Becky. [With her eyes down^ speaks in a loWj 



THE TRUTH 141 

shamed voice.] This room is too small for you 
and me at this moment, — which leaves ? 

[He smiles, hesitates a moment, then sits in the 
arm-chair at Left, Becky gives a half- 
smothered exclamation of rage and starts 
to leave the room. Lindon rises quickly. 
LiNDON. No, no, I was only joking ! I'm sorry 
you take the whole affair so seriously. Allow me. 
[He bows and goes out Left, 
Becky. [Stands quietly thinking a moment, 
then makes up her mind.] Eve herself is the one 
to help me! But I can't go to her till I'm sure 
she'll listen and understand — Laura! [She sits 
by the table and takes up the receiver of the telephone.] 
Seven eight Plaza. Yes ! It's a lady this time, 
so I hope you won't have to listen! Hello! Is 
Miss — Oh, is that you, Laura ? Can you come 
over at once? I am in dreadful trouble! Oh, 



142 THE TRUTH 

well, after dinner, then ! No, I was going out, but 
I won't — it's too important. You were right — 
and Eve's right too. Never mind, I can't tell 
you over the 'phone. I'll explain everything to- 
night, only don't fail me. You can prevent a 
real catastrophe that has no need to happen. 

— Oh, that's all right, don't stop another minute, 
then. Thank you with all my heart. \She hangs 
up the receiver, gives a long sigh, and sits worriedly 
thinking. Warder comes in, serious hut calm. 
Looking at him, half frightened, she makes a great 
effort to he natural, and to he in a good humor. 1 
Hello, Tom! Your game finished already? 

Warder. We didn't play. Weld didn't get 
back to town. Any callers? 
Becky. No. 
Warder. I thought I saw some one leaving 

— from the top of the street. 



THE TRUTH 143 

Becky. Did you? Oh! it was probably 
father; he came. 

Warder. No I spoke with your father some 
fifteen minutes ago. He told me about the 
money you gave him. 
\A second's pause; Becky looks down and then 

up at him. 
Becky. Are you angry? 
Warder. You gave me your word you wouldn't. 
Becky. But I was so sorry for him — that's 
why he came to-day, he said he must have it; 
I couldn't refuse him and you weren't here! 

Warder. He said you mailed him my check 
day before yesterday. 
[Becky is silent, trapped, frightened, A pause, 

then she speaks in a low voice, 
Becky. I'm so sorry — 

[A second's pause. 



144 THE TRUTH 

Warder. It looked to me like Fred Lindon. 
[Becky, more jrightenedy realizing what is 
hanging over her, like a drowning person 
who cannot swim, -flounders helplessly about 
in the next jew speeches, trying to save herself 
by any and every means that she thinks may 
help her for the moment. 
Becky. Well, I'll be honest, it was Fred Lindon ! 
Warder. [Anger getting the best of him.] 
After everything — your word of honor. Eve's 
accusations, my absolute desire — you sent for 
him to come and see you! 

Becky. No, no, you mustn't think that, Tom! 
He came of his own accord of course, — I suppose 
to see if I would see him ! I didn't know it ! 

Warder. [Wary, suspicious, to lead her on.] 
Then why did you see him? You could easily 
excuse yourself. 



THE TRUTH 145 

Becky. No, you don't understand. \She floun- 
ders hopelessly.] I didn't know it was he! Don't 
you see? 

Warder. No, I don't see! 

[Watches her with a face growing harder and 
harder with each lie she tells. 

Becky. But I'm telling you — it was just 
like this; I was upstairs and Jenks came — and 
said a gentleman w^anted to see me in the draw- 
ing-room. Just that, don't you see — a gentle- 
man. [She sees the doubting look in his face and 
mistaking it, tries to make her story more plausible.] 
I was surprised too, and said "Who?" and Jenks 
said the gentleman gave no name — [He turns 
sharply away from her, unable to face her as she 
tells the lies.] Yes, I know it was funny — I 
thought so then. I suppose Jenks considered 
it a joke, — and I suppose he didn't give his 

L 



146 THE TRUTH 

name for that very reason, for fear I wouldn^t 

see him — [Warder, looking up as if to stop her, 

sees the door Right open and quickly closes it.] 

Of course the moment I came into the room 

and saw who it was, I excused myself, and he 

left. 

Warder. [In a voice not loud but full of anger 
and emotion.] Lies! all of it! Every word a lie, 
and another and another and another ! 

Becky. [Breathless with fright, gasping.] Tom ! 

Warder. [Going to her.] You sent for him! 
[She is too frightened to speak, but she shakes her 
head in a last desperate effort at denial.] Don't 
shake your head ! I know what I'm talking about 
and for the first time with you, I believe! [She 
puts up her hands helplessly and backs away from 
him.] I saw your note to him ! [She starts with a 
sense of anger added to her other emotions.] I 



THE TRUTH 147 

read it here, in this room; he gave it to me before 
you came down. 

Becky. The beast! 

Warder. \Wiih biting satire.] YouWe going 
to misjudge him too! 

Becky. No, Tom, I'll tell you the truth and 
all of it! 

Warder. Naturally, now you've got to! 

Becky. No — wait ! I did send for him — it 
was to tell him about those papers of Eve's. 

Warder. Yes, you must plan your escape 
together ! 

Becky. No! because I still believed he was 
decent. I thought it was his duty, that he would 
claim it as his right, to prevent such a scandal as 
Eve threatened to make, which he knew I didn't 
deserve. 

Warder. Hah! 



148 THE TRUTH 

Becky. You may sneer, but I don't! Yes, 
I broke my promise to you — what else could 
I do? You wouldn't let me send for him! And 
he came! And he did what you said he would. 
He took me in his arms before I could stop him, 
and kissed me. 

\S}ie bends over the back of the chair at Centre 
on which she is leaning, and sobs. 

Warder. [Goes to her, speaking with bitter 
irony. 1 Charming! And you turned on him, of 
course! Played the shocked and surprised wife 
and ordered him out of the house! 

Becky. Yes. But I did! Why do you speak 
as if I didn't? 

Warder. Do you expect me to believe this, too ? 

Becky. [Facing him.] I don't expect, you've 
got to! 

Warder. Do you think you can go on telling 



THE TRUTH 149 

lies forever and I'll go on blindly believing them 
as I have for three years? 

Becky. Even you couldn't have turned on 
him with more anger and disgust than I did ! 

Warder. I couldn't believe you if I wanted to ! 
You've destroyed every breath of confidence in 
me! 

Becky. It's the truth I'm telling you now ! 

Warder. In everything — everything that has 
come up since my eyes were first forced half open 

— you have told me a lie! 

Becky. It's the truth! It's the truth! 

Warder. [Continues, hardly hearing her.] The 
money to your father, the first lie, and to-day made 
a double one ! All this rotten evidence of Eve's 

— another dozen! Your promise that Lindon's 
visit Thursday should be his last, the next ! 

Becky. I meant it then — I meant it truthfully. 



ISO THE TRUTH 

Warder. [Ignoring her interruption.] His visit 
after all to-day — that led of course to a mass of 
lies ! And then the truth ! He kissed you ! And 
then another lie and another dozen to try and save 
yourself ! 

Becky. [Quietly, in a hushed, frightened voice.] 
By everything in this world and in the next that 
I hold dear and reverence, I've told you the truth 
at last. 

Warder. You don't know what's true when 
you hear it or when you speak it! I could never 
believe in you again ! Never have confidence ! 
How could I? Ask any man in the world, and 
his answer would be the same! 

[He turns and goes away from her, to control 
his anger, which threatens to get the best of 
him. 

Becky. [Sobbing.] No, no, Tom! Don't! 



THE TRUTH 151 

don't say that! You must believe in me! You 
must believe in me! 

Warder. \A]ier a pause, collects himselj and 
comes to the writing-table.] Becky, you and I must 
say good-by to each other. We must finish 
separately. [A silence. She looks at him in 
dumb horror and surprise.] Do you under- 
stand ? 

Becky. [In a low voice.] No! 

Warder. We must separate. Quietly — no 
fuss, no divorce unless you wish it. {A pause, 
she does not answer. He goes toward her and 
repeats.] No divorce unless you wish it. 

Becky. \With simple but deep pathos.] I love 
you. 

Warder. You must stay on in the house for 
the present, till you can make your plans. That 
will help keep the thing quiet, too. 



152 THE TRUTH 

Becky. Tom! Do you really mean all you're 
saying? Do you realize what it must mean for 
me — for both of us? 

Warder. Yes. 

Becky. To-morrow, perhaps — ? 

Warder. No. I shall go to Boston to-night 
for a few days ; when I come back, you may have 
settled on something. If you haven't, I can manage 
all right. I don't want to press you about that, 
only — 

Becky. I will not stay in your house one single 
day without you. 

Warder. You'll have to I My price for hush- 
ing up Lindon and Eve, and every one else, is 
that you on your side act with dignity, and as I 
think wisest. 

Becky. [Going to the arm-chair at Left.] No! 
A woman like me whose heart is breaking, whether 



THE TRUTH 153 

she's right or wrong, can't act like that. She 
canH do ill 

^She sinks into the chair, bursting into tears. 
Warder. [Beside her.] Try. For your sake 
as well as mine. Good-by, Becky. 

Becky. [With the tears choking her voice.] 
I told you the truth the last time. Oh, can't 
you believe me? 
Warder. No — good-by. 

[Going. 
Becky. I love you and only you and you 
always — 

Warder. [Turns in the doorway.] The club 
address will reach me! 

[He goes out, closing the door behind him. Becky 
sits still a moment thinking; then she goes 
to the writing-table, rings the bell, and takes 
up a time-table. Her hands drop upon the 



154 THE TRUTH 

table in utter dejection and her head lowers 
as the tears come again fast and thick. 

Servant. [Entering Left.] Yes, madam? 

Becky. [Controlling her emotion and hiding 
as best she can the traces of it.] Tell Perkins to 
pack my small trunk and hand-bag. I am going 
to Baltimore to spend a day or so with my father. 

Servant. Yes, madam. 

Becky. And then come back, please. 

Servant. Very good, madam. 

[Goes out, 

Becky. [Takes up the telephone.] Hello! 708 
Plaza. [As she listens for the answer she looks 
about the room, the control goes from her face, and 
the tears come once more; she brushes them away 
and tries to speak in a conventional tone without 
displaying her emotion, which is however plainly 
evident.] Hello, I want Miss Fraser, please. . . . 



THE TRUTH 155 

Oh, ask her to call me the minute she's free, 
please. Mrs. Warder. \She hangs up the receiver 
and writes.] "I am leaving now. You will at 
least believe that I cannot turn you out of your 
house, nor can I live in it one single day without 
you. It is ready waiting for you as I shall be all 
the rest of my life if you can ever again believe — " 

[She stops as the Servant enters and comes 
to her. 

Servant. Madam? 

[Becky finishes writing silently. 

Becky. [Sealing the note.] Has Mr. Warder 
gone yet? 

Servant. Only just this second went out, 
madam. He told me to pack his bag and meet 
him at the station with it. 

Becky. [Rising.] Give this to Mr. Warder 
with his things 



156 THE TRUTH 

\Gvves ike note. 

Servant. Yes, madam. 

\He goes out Left, The telephone hell rings. 

Becky. [Going to the table, sits, and takes up 
the receiver. Again she does her best to keep 
the emotion out of her voice, but only partly suc- 
ceeds.] Hello! Laura? I'm so sorry, after all, 
I can't see you to-night. Tom has been called 
to — Chicago suddenly on business — yes, isn't it 
too bad? And I've had a telegram that father 
isn't very well, so I am taking the five-twenty train 
to Baltimore. Yes, I'll write. No, I don't think 
he's seriously ill. Good-by! 

[She hangs up the receiver, dropping her head 
on the table and sobbing heart-brokenly as 

THE CURTAIN FALLS 



ACT III 

The same night. At Mr» Roland^ s rooms in Mrs, 
Crespigny*s fiat, Baltimore, 



ACT III 

Mr. Roland's rooms in Mrs. Crespigny's jlat 
in Baltimore. This is the parlor of a cheap flatf 
with the bedroontf through an arch, originally in- 
tended for the dining room and lit by a narrow 
window on a well. There is red paper on the 
walls and red globes for the electric lights. An 
ugly set of furniture, with many tidies, a strange 
conglomeration of cheap feminine ^^ nick-nacks,''^ 
relieved by a sporting print or two, a frame of 
prize ribbons, and a few other masculine belong- 
ings which have been added to the original con- 
dition of the room, like a thin coat of paint. At 

back is a bow-window beside a sofa. On the Left 
159 



l6o THE TRUTH 

is the opening into the bedroom, and beside this 
a door leads to the hall. There is a centre-table 
with chairs on either side and a Morris chair 
down on the Right. A sideboard in the upper 
Left corner. 

Roland and Mrs. Crespigny are playing piquet 
at the centre-table. A ^^ Teddy Bear" with a 
pink ribbon bow about its neck is sitting on the table 
near Mrs. Crespigny. They play on through 
part of the scene. Roland stops to light a 
cigarette, and Mrs. Crespigny takes advantage 
of the pause to powder her face and preen herself 
in a pocket mirror. 
Mrs. Crespigny. You don't think you smoke 

too many of them? 

Roland. If my smoking is disagreeable to you, 

I might spend my evenings at the club. 
Mrs. Crespigny. You know different! You 



THE TRUTH i6i 

can't make that an excuse for skinning out of 
spending your evenings at home. I only wish't I 
smoked 'em myself. I've read in the papers that 
real ladies do now — but I guess it's the fast set, 
and I always was conservative. 

Roland. [Playing.] Don't talk; study your 
cards. If you don't take care, you'll win! 

Mrs. Crespigny. Will I? Excuse me, I 
wasn't thinking. [She plays a card, and as Ro- 
land takes the trick she takes up her mirror and 
examines wrinkles.] I believe I'll have massage. 
I heard of a fine massoor yesterday. 

Roland. Masseuse, you mean, I hope. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Massoor! Massoose is plu- 
ral. The singular is massoor. You forget I 
was educated in New Orleans. 

[She rises and goes to the sideboard and pours 
out a brandy and soda, 

M 



i62 THE TRUTH 

Roland. Where's my brandy and soda? 

Mrs. Crespigny. I'm getting it. 

[Bringing the glass down to the table. 

Roland. That's a good girl. Thank you, 
Mrs. Crespigny. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Ain't it funny, good friends 
as we've been for so long now, we've kep' on 
calling each other ''Mr." and "Mrs."? S'pose it 
wouldn't be etiquay to call each other by our first 
names. 

Roland. Etiquette. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Etiquay I You can correct 
my English when you want to, but my French 
I've kep' pure since school, and I remember 
perfeckly — all words ending in e-t you per- 
nounce A. 

Roland. What is your first name? 

Mrs. Crespigny. Genevieve, but I was always 



THE TRUTH 163 

called Jenny by my first h — ! I mean — I was 
always called Jenny by my schoolgirl friends. 

Roland. [Playing.] Very interesting. 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Playing.] I think your first 
name's real pretty ! 

Roland. [Taking the trick.] Tut, tut ! You're 
getting too skittish, Mrs. Crespigny. 

[She laughs a little embarrassedly. 

Mrs. Crespigny. It's your fault ! 

Roland. [Playing card, and laughing.] Then 
I apologize! 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Playing card, and giggling.] 
Oh, you needn't! 

Roland. [Laughing more at her than with her, 
but realizing that she will not know the difference.] 
I insist. 

[He takes the trick. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Anybody'd think we was 



1 64 THE TRUTH 

engaged to be married or something of that sort, 

wouldn't they? 

Roland. I hope not ! 

Mrs. Crespigny. Oh, I don't know! I re- 
member some postal cards what I've read that 
might be construed to lean that way. [Roland 
rises and gets a cigarette from the box on the table 
in the bow-window.'] There was one from Atlantic 
City that was just too sweet for anything! You 
sent it after we had that ridickerlous quarrel on 
the board walk. 

Roland. What about? 

Mrs. Crespigny. I lost my self-respect and 
asked you to kiss me, 'cause you said you was 
grateful for the fifty dollars I gave you for your 
poker losses the night before. And you handed 
me back my money and said if that was the price 
of the loan — oh, how you hurt my feelings! 



THE TRUTH 165 

\Wiih a touch oj jiUile emotion. 

Roland. [Coming hack to his chair.} That was 

only a bluff! Come along, I'll play you a game 

for the whole bunch of postal cards. 

[Takes up the second deck and shuffles. 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Rising, speaks rather 

grandly.] Nobody won't never get them postal 

cards from me except over my dead body. [Cuts 

the cards, and Roland deals.] And I intend to 

refer to 'em every chance I get in hopes that some 

day — just in a desperate fit, maybe — you'll up 

and marry me to stop me. 

[Sits again. 
Roland. Go on, play. 

Mrs. Crespigny. You've owned up you're 
comfortable in my cute little flat — and I don't 
nag. 

[Both take up their hands^ both play, and she 
takes trick. 



1 66 THE TRUTH 

Roland. You haven't the right, but as my wife 
— nay, nay, Pauline. 

Mrs. Crespigny. You've got the best rooms 
here, and if you ever do pay any board, don't I 
lend it right back to you the next day ? 

Roland. Isn't it a little indelicate to remind 
me of that, Mrs. Crespigny? 

\Flaying, 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Getting a little angry.] Well, 
I guess the indelicacy's even ! [She plays and 
starts to take the trick. He stops her and takes it 
himself.] Oh, excuse me, I'm at your beck and nod, 
and I've even so far forgot my family pride as to 
hint that you wasn't unacceptable to me in a 
nearer relation. 

Roland. There you go again ! Keep off the 
thin ice! 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Throws down her cards and 



THE TRUTH 167 

loses her temper outright.'] Well, why won't you 
marry me? I may have forgot my pride, but I 
never forget myself. You know you wouldn't 
dare step over the invisible line between the dumb- 
waiter and the bath-room, what separates your 
apartment from mine in the flat. 

Roland. One moment, please. Have I ever 
even hinted at taking the slightest advantage of 
your unprotected position in this house? \He 
rises in mock dignity.'] Who's kept further from 
that invisible line, you or I? 

Mrs. Crespigny. Well, I must say youVe 
always behaved toward me like a perfect gentle- 
man. [He sits again and takes another cigarette.] 
But jes' let's speak the truth — if you can about 
anything! [He fumbles in his vest pockets.] 
Matches? [She rises, goes to the sideboard, and 
finding a box of matches, brings it back to the table. 



i68 THE TRUTH 

During the first part of the following speech she 
makes nervous and ineffectual efforts to strike 
matches, in each case breaking off the heads without 
any result.] You know you ain't wanted at your 
clubs; that's why you first took to playin' even- 
ings with me — that, and 'cause I was easy ! You 
know that here in Baltimore you're called a tout, 
a broken-down gambler, and a has-been, but I've 
always hoped you was a will-be for me. [Irri- 
tated by her repeated failures, he takes the match- 
box from her and lights his cigarette with the first 
match he strikes.] You know your old friends'd 
rather go 'round the block than stop and talk to 
you in the street. Yes, you know it as well as I 
do! And you've lived off me, borrowed money 
of me, led me to caring for you, let me take care 
of you as if you was — my own child, and I've 
saved you from bein' a drunken sot! [Her voice 



THE TRUTH 169 

fills with tearSy but her anger gets the best 0} her^ and 
she finishes strongly^ striking the table with her 
beringed hand as she leans across toward him.] 
Now, why ain't I good enough for you? 

Roland. [Risings really angry^ and his dig- 
nity offended.] Mrs. Crespigny — 

Mrs. Crespigny. Oh, you needn't get on your 
high horse or I'll win this rubber for the five hun- 
dred! I know you're worthless, and I know 
you don't always tell the truth, but through it 
all you've been a real gentleman to me, and I 
realized yesterday, when I thought you was gone 
for good, what it meant to me. I'm a decent 
woman, Mr. Roland, if I am a fool, and I swear 
I'm good enough for you! 

Roland. So far as that goes, you're too good 
for me, but I've got others to consider. My 
daughter — 



I70 THE TRUTH 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Interrupting him.] Yes, I 
know she's against me. [She sits again, and with 
determination.] Well, I'm against her, and per- 
haps some day I'll have a chance to pay her back ! 

Roland. That's talking foolishly ! In the first 
place, my allowance would stop the day I married. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Well, haven't I got enough 
for two ? It's looked mighty like it the last couple 
a years. 

[She nervously takes the "Teddy Bear^^ from 
the table to hide her embarrassment at her bold- 
ness, and laying it -flat on her knee, face down- 
ward, reties the pink bow on its neck. 

Roland. [Sitting, he gathers the cards together 
and shuffles them.] Come, come, here we are 
again on one of those useless discussions. Come 
along, give me another brandy and soda. 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Resignedly.] All right. 



THE TRUTH 171 

\Rises^ and takes his glass ^ replacing the ''Teddy 

Bear'' on the table,] This will be your second 

before twelve o'clock and it's got to be a little 

weakish. [She goes to the sideboard. The front 

door-bell is heard ring.] My goodness! who can 

that be? 

[The bell rings again. 

Roland. Don't know, old girl, but go on, I'll 

deal for you. 

[He deals. 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Going to the table, cuts the 
cards.] I just love to have you call me ''old girl " — 
it seems so nice and familiar. 
[The bell rings again, and Mrs. Crespigny, 
taking the ''Teddy Bear'' with her, places it 
on the side table at Left and goes out. Ro- 
land deals. After a moment's pause Becky 
comes in, carrying a hand-bag. She enters 
with an air of bravado, which fades instantly 



172 THE TRUTH 

thai she observes Roland does not see her. 
But her pathetic, timid look vanishes im- 
mediately when he looks up. 
Roland. [Going on dealing, without looking up.] 
Who was it? 

Becky. [With forced gayety.] Hello, father! 
Roland. Good Heavens ! 
Becky. [Putting her bag on the table at Left.] 
Aren't you surprised? 
Roland. [Dryly.] Very. 
Becky. And pleased? 

Roland. Where in the world did you come 
from? 

Becky. New York; the next train after you. 
Give me a kiss. How are you? 

[Kisses him. 
Roland. What have you come for ? Where are 
you stopping? 



THE TRUTH 173 

Becky. Here! 

Roland. At what hotel? 

Becky. No hotel — here with you! 

Roland. Nonsense ! There's no place for you 
in the flat. 

Becky. Why not? I gave my check to the 
expressman and my trunk will be around in the 
morning. 

Roland. These two rooms are all I have. 
[Showing the opening to the Left,] Take a look 
at the bedroom — a beastly, dark little hole with 
one window that doesn't look out, — it looks in! 
The bedroom of the flat we use for a dining room. 
Mrs. Crespigny sleeps in the servant's room — so 
she tells me. 
Becky. Father! 
Roland. Now you can see what nice sort of 



174 THE TRUTH 

surroundings your poor old father's had to put 

up with these last years. 

Becky. \Takes ojj her hat and cloak and puts 
them on sofa at Right.] You have only yourself 
to blame! You could live splendidly on the al- 
lowance Tom makes you in the one club you've 
got left. 

Roland. You needn't take off your things, 
you can't stay here. 

Becky. Oh, can't I? I've come to pay you a 
little visit, and here I stay to-night and several 
nights. 

\Comes to the centre-table and starts to collect 
cards. 

Roland. Be careful ! That's Genevieve's hand 
and we must finish this sometime — I'm well 
ahead. [Carefully places the cards, properly di- 
vided, on the table at Left.] And really, Becky, 



THE TRUTH 175 

you can't stay here. You can go to a hotel if you 
want to, or back to New York. You're in the 
way here ! I'm an old man; this sort of thing up- 
sets me! There's no room and there's no bed 
for you. \Crosses to the Morris chair and sits.] 
What the devil do you mean, turning up here well 
toward midnight, and threatening to stay, when 
for years I've been trying to get you to come to 
Baltimore, and you know you were ashamed to 
come? 

Becky. [Sitting in the chair Left of the centre- 
table.] That isn't true, father; I always said I'd 
come if you'd give up certain things. 

Roland. Well, I haven't given them up, so 
why have you come? What's the joke? And 
Where's Tom? 

Becky. [After a second's pause.] That's just 
it. Tom has been called to — San Francisco — 



176 THE TRUTH 

suddenly — just after you left, on business — and 
the idea came to me, at last I'll make that visit to 
father! It'll be a good chance for me to settle 
Mrs. Crespigny, too ! 

Roland. You couldn't have come at a more 
inopportune time! I was very busy this evening. 

Becky. Yes, I know, — piquet with Mrs. C. I 
I'll finish it with you. 

\Rises and goes to get the cards. 

Roland. No, you won't ! You'll go to a hotel 
for the night and I'll come and have a decent lunch 
with you to-morrow. 

Becky. I can't go to a hotel. I've come away 
without a penny. I had to borrow half the money 
for my ticket from Perkins. 

Roland. Where is Perkins? 

Becky. In New York. I knew, of course, 
there'd be no place for her here. 



THE TRUTH 177 

Roland. Any of the hotel people here will 
trust you. 

Becky. I won*t ask them. I forgot to get 
Tom's address, so I can't send to him for any 
money. I've got to stay with you, father. 

\She sits on the arm oj the Morris chair and puts 
her arm about her father. 

Roland. You're a very boring person! 

Becky. That's a kind welcome for a dear and 
only daughter! 

Roland. And I'm not going to have myself 
made uncomfortable by you! 

Becky. Please let me stay for a day or two, 
maybe a little longer or maybe not so long. I'll 
promise not to be any trouble; I'll sleep on the 
sofa! 

Roland. Humph ! You don't know that sofa ! 
That was made in the antebellum and the ante- 



178 THE TRUTH 

springum days ! Even a cat couldn't sleep on it 

without chloroform. 

Becky. Well, I don't expect to sleep, father, 
and if I don't, you won't know it. I've got to 
stay. 

\Rises and goes away and stands by the table with 
her back toward him. 

Roland. [Looks at her, suddenly suspicious.] 
Becky, you're not telling me the truth. Some- 
thing's the matter. 

Becky. [Turning toward him, taking a high 
moral stand.] Really, father! 

Roland. There's something wrong. What is 
it? 

Becky. Nothing. 

Roland. Oh, come, I'm your father, and I 
know the look in your eyes when you're not telling 
the truth; you get that look from me! You're 



THE TRUTH 179 

telKng me a lie — tell me the truth. What does 
it mean ? 

Becky. \A]ter a second's pause^ bursts out with 
all her pent-up feelings, which she has been trying 
to hide.] I've left Tom. 

Roland. How do you mean — ''Left Tom"? 

Becky. Left him for good. I'll never live 
with him again. 

Roland. Nonsense! 

Becky. Never! You don't understand. 

[She sits again beside the table, leaning her elbows 
upon it and resting her jace between her two 
hands. 

Roland. No, I don't! and I don't want to! 

Becky. I've left his house in New York for 
good. 

Roland. What's your reason? What's he 
done? 



i8o THE TRUTH 

Becky. He's deceived me. 

Roland. \Rising.\ Tom! Never! 

Becky. Father, I can't go back to him; I 
can't! Don't ask me any more questions, only 
keep me with you — please, keep me with you. . . . 

Roland. [Going to her.] You're upset about 
matters. You've had a quarrel, that's all, and 
you're going back to-night. 

Becky. No. I've told him I'll never come 
back and I've come to stay — with you. 

Roland. But I won't have it! In the first 
place, Mrs. Crespigny wouldn't have it either. 
She'd be jealous of your being here — and after 
all it's her flat. And I don't believe what you tell 
me about Tom. 

Becky. We can go somewhere else. Who is 
Mrs. Crespigny ? [Rises ^ and going to him takes 
hold of his sleeve.] And I'm your daughter. 



THE TRUTH i8i 

Besides, Tom*s allowance will stop. From now 
on you and I must get on together with the little 
money I have from mother. 

Roland. Nothing of the sort. Even if you 
did leave Tom, you can make him take care of 
you. 

Becky. I won't take any money from Tom! 
No more money! Do you hear me, father? 

Roland. [Becoming more angry.] No, I don't 
hear you! And I have something to say about 
my end of all this, which is that you've got to go 
back to your husband before it's too late for him 
to take you back, and give him a chance to ex- 
plain ! You'll go back to Tom to-night ! 

[He goes determinedly to the sofa and gets her 
hat and cloak for her. 

Becky. [Takes her hat from him and puts it 



i82 THE TRUTH 

on the centre-table with equal determination.] I 

shall sleep here, in this room, to-night! 

Roland. You'll sleep in a Pullman car and 
wake up to-morrow, happy and in your right 
senses, in Jersey City. 

Becky. [Moves back from him a little.] You 
can't turn me out! 

[A pause. Roland reads the real trouble in 
her face and becomes serious and sympathetic, 

Roland. Becky, you don't really believe what 
you say about Tom? [She lowers her head 
in assent.] You know? [She lowers her head 
again.] There must be a mistake somewhere! 
[Puts the cloak on the Morris chair.] If I ever 
knew a man who loved his wife! Go back, 
Becky ! 

Becky. It's impossible! 

Roland. [Going to her.] 1 speak to you with 



THE TRUTH 183 

years of bitter experience behind me, and it's 
only what good there is left in me which is urging 
me to say this to you. I know in the end that 
you'll be nearer happiness than you ever can be 
any other way. Go back to Tom. 

Becky. No, no, I tell you, father, I've left 
Tom for good ! Keep me with you — 

\A knock on the door, 
Roland. Come in! 
[Mrs. Crespigny comes in Left and Becky 

sinks down into the Morris chair. 
Mrs. Crespigny. [Worried.] It's getting pretty 
late! I didn't know as Mis' Warder knew 
the street car don't run past here after twelve 
thirty. 

Roland. That's all right. Mrs. Warder is 
taking the one o'clock train to New York. We'll 
catch the last car. 



i84 THE TRUTH 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Relievedy smiles.] Oh, well, 
then, you've got plenty of time. I'd better let 
you have my latch-key, though. I'll leave it on 
the hall table. [To Becky.] Would you like 
anything? A glass of raspberry vinegar and a 
piece of jell cake? 

Becky. No, thanks. 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Offended.] Good evening. 

Becky. Good evening. 

[Mrs. Crespigny goes out. 

Why did you say I was going? I'm not! 

Roland. You are. If you love Tom, you'll 
go. [He goes to her and puts his arm around her 
shoulder.] Do you love Tom still? 

Becky. Yes, father. 

Roland. Then go back, Becky! 

Becky. No. 

Roland. Your religion teaches you that the 



THE TRUTH 185 

greatest love always carries with it the power of 
forgiveness. 

Becky. [Eagerly.] Oh, it's what I want to 
believe. If it's only true — if it's only true of us/ 

Roland. You've got to make it true by going 
back ! [He moves away.] Good God ! you shan't 
repeat your mother's and my mistake and make 
a miserable failure of both your lives ! 

[Becky looks up surprised, 

Becky. What mistake? 

Roland. [Quietly, ashamed.] Your mother left 
me, just as you want to leave Tom. 

Becky. Mother — [Rises,] left you? 

Roland. And for the same reason, do you 
understand me — that you want to leave Tom. 

Becky. But you never told me! 

Roland. No. 

Becky. How long before she died? 



i86 THE TRUTH 

Roland. A year. 

Becky. And how long were you and mother 
happy together? 

Roland. A few months — not many. 

Becky. Tom and I have been blissfully happy 
for six years! 

Roland. That's an argument for me! Go 
back! 

Becky. What a lot of lies youVe always told 
me about yourself and mother, — all my life ! 
You always said you were an ideal couple and that 
it was sorrow over her death that made you what 
you are! 

Roland. I was ashamed when you found me 
out — I wanted some excuse to try and keep your 
sympathy and affection. Besides, what good 
would it have done to have told you the truth? 

\He crosses to the table Left, and taking up a 



THE TRUTH 187 

photograph 0} his wife, stands looking at 

iL 

Becky. If you had always told me the truth 

about everything, I think it would have saved me 

this night. I've about decided that the truth in 

everything is the best for everything in the end — 

if one could only learn to tell it. 

Roland. You must begin young and you 
didn't. 

Becky. By whose fault? [Roland turns away 
from her, feeling the sting.] Tell me now about 
you and mother. 

[She sits again in the Morris chair. 

Roland. [By the centre-table.] Well, your 

mother accused me as you do Tom. But it 

wasn't true of me, Becky ! it wasn't true — then. 

Becky. I'm afraid I don't believe you, father. 

Roland. You don't believe me when, even 



i88 THE TRUTH 

now, after all these years, I tell you it wasn't 

true? 

Becky. No. I want to believe you, father, 
but I can't! You've just admitted you've lied 
to me all my life about you and mother! Why 
should I believe you would suddenly turn around 
and tell me the truth now? 

Roland. At last, one trait in you like your 
mother ! Do all that I could, swear by everything 
she or I held holy, I couldn't persuade her I was 
telling the truth! 

Becky. Perhaps you had already destroyed her 
confidence in you! You can do that, even with 
some one who loves you, in a day, in an hour, 
in even less! 

Roland. It did look ugly against me, and 
your mother was akeady disappointed in me. I 
couldn't live up to her standard. \He smiles.] 



THE TRUTH 189 

I was sort of good-looking, when she married me, 
— too foppish, perhaps, — and I rode my own 
horses, generally to win, too, — and what part of 
my income I didn't make on the race-track I made 
with the ace and right bower! I promised your 
mother to give up the gambling side of it — but 
I couldn't, it was in my blood; I tried, Becky, 
but I failed. I lied to her about it and she found 
me out and began to distrust me. She was a 
crank on the subject of lying, anyway. One of 
those straightforward, narrow-minded. New Eng- 
land women who think everything that isn't the 
truth is a lie! I always hated the plain truth. 
I liked to trim it up a little. 

Becky. \With a nervous^ pathetic little laugh.] 
Like me! 

Roland. Yes. I remember how we used to 
laugh at you as a child ! Almost the first words 



I90 THE TRUTH 

you spoke were fibs, and gad, the fairy stories 

you used to tell about yourself! 

\Goes up to table, 

Becky. Yes. Do you remember the time, 
father, after I'd been reading Grimm's Fairy 
Tales about the wicked step-parents, how I told 
all over Baltimore you were my stepfather and 
beat me ? It made me a real heroine, to the other 
children, and I loved it! And you found it out, 
and gave me my choice of being punished or 
promising never to tell another story! Do you 
remember ? 

Roland. [Sits on the arm of the chair and puts 
his arm about her.] I could never bear to punish 
you! 

Becky. I always made up stories about every- 
thing. I didn't see any harm — then — 

Roland. Well, your mother said I'd proved 



THE TRUTH 191 

I couldn't tell the truth! She didn't often use 
plain and ugly words, but she called me a liar, 
and I've never heard the word since without 
hearing her voice and seeing her face as she said 
it! 

Becky. You loved her! Oh, I know how it 
must have hurt! 

Roland. She wouldn't believe me, she wouldn't 
forgive, and she left me! I don't blame her; it 
was my own fault at bottom! But it's true as 
land and water, Becky, as true as you're my 
daughter, God help you, and that I've loved you 
in my useless, selfish old way, I was true to your 
mother. I loved her, and no other woman existed 
for me then. I was willing to own up I had 
broken my word and was a gambler! I was 
willing to own up I was a liar, even, and perhaps 
I deserved all I got, but I loved your mother, 



192 THE TRUTH 

and when she went back on me and believed the 
one thing about me that wasn't true, I gritted 
my teeth like a damn fool and said, *'To hell 
with women and to the dogs for me ! " 

Becky. And it wasn't true! Father! I be- 
lieve you, it wasn't true! 

Roland. No, but it was true enough soon 
after! I kept my word to myself and gave her 
plenty of reasons not to love me afterwards — 
and that was the beginning of the end of me. 

Becky. But if you'd only waited, if you'd 
only given her a chance, wouldn't she have real- 
ized? 

Roland. [Going to hety puts his hand on her 
shoulder.] Yes, and that's why you must go back 
to Tom to-night. Do you want to repeat your 
mother's and my story? Go back, Becky! 

Becky. I can't. 



THE TRUTH 193 

Roland. Well, I can tell you what Tom'll 
do if you put off going back to him till it's too 
late. He'll let you go, and help you to divorce 
him, so he can marry some other woman, your 
opposite, and be happy the rest of his life. 

Becky. Father! 

[Becky shows a new element, jealousy , added 
to her trouble. 

Roland. Or else he'll grow hard and bitter 
about all women, and the gold years of a man's 
life will be brass in his mouth — thanks to 
you! 

Becky. Yes, and I'll live here with you and 

grow dowdy and slattern, till I'm slovenly all 

through — body and soul! I won't care how I 

look or what company I keep in place of the 

friends who will surely drop me. I'll take up your 

life here, and my face'll grow flabby and my 
o 



194 THE TRUTH 

heart dry and my spirit fogged, and I'll have 

nobody to thank for the dead end but myself! 

Roland. But I won't have it! You've got 
to go back to Tom to-night! You were happy 
enough with him this afternoon! He's been a 
wonderful husband to you and I know the run of 
them! I don't blame him for not wanting me 
around, — a father-in-law who was a disgrace 
to his wife. He did right to keep me here where 
I'm an old story and nobody cares. I'll own up 
to this now that you want to turn your back on 
him. But you shan't do it! You shan't break 
up his home with a beastly scandal and spoil 
your whole life and perhaps his, all in one hys- 
terical hour! Listen! \He goes to her and 
places his two hands on her shoulders."] It's true 
that no one was to blame for what I've sunk to 
but myself. Still, it's also true that in the be- 



THE TRUTH 195 

ginning, perhaps, a great deal of patience, and 
more forgiveness, might have made both your 
mother's life and mine a little more worth living 1 

\TIe turns aside, surprised by a welling up of 
an almost forgotten emotion. 

Becky. You don't dream how every word you 
say cuts and saws into me ! But I can't go back ! 

Roland. You will. For if it comes down to 
this point, I won't keep you here! 

Becky. But I can't go to a hotel! I haven't 
any money. 

Roland. I have enough for your ticket, and 
I'll take you to the station and send a telegram 
to Tom to expect you in the morning. 

Becky. No, I can't — I can't. 

Roland. [Sternly.] You've got to I You can't 
stay here and I won't give you a cent to stay 
anywhere else! 



196 THE TRUTH 

Becky. You wouldn't turn me out into the 
streets I 

Roland. Yes, I will, if I must to force you to 
go back to your husband. 

\JIe gets her cloak, 

Becky. [Rises, desperate.] Father! 

Roland. [Struck by her tone, pauses.] Well? 

Becky. [Drops her head and with a great 
ejjort speaks, her voice sinking almost to a whisper.] 
I haven't left Tom — it's Tom's left me — 

[A pause. Roland stands looking at her and 
her cloak drops from his hand, as he slowly 
takes in what she means. 

Roland. What do you say? 

Becky. Tom has left me — now you know 
why I can't go back. 

Roland. What for? 

Becky. He called me what mother called you. 



THE TRUTH 197 

He's lost confidence in me. He believes — 
there's some one else. 

\The last in agony of shame and grief, 

Roland. No wonder you made me worm out 
the truth! I wouldn't have believed it of you, 
Becky ! I wouldn't have believed it of you ! 

Becky. [Frightened.] But it isn't true, father! 

Roland. Why didn't you tell me the right story 
in the beginning? 

Becky. [Aghast.] Father! don't you believe 
me? 

Roland. You denied it to him, I suppose? 

Becky. Of course. 

Roland. And he turned you out all the same? 

Becky. He didn't turn me out; he only refused 
to stay in the house with me. I came away ! 

Roland. Well, if your husband doesn't be- 
lieve in you, how can you expect me to, who've 



198 THE TRUTH 

known all your life you couldn't tell the 

truth? 

Becky. Father, I've told you the truth now! 
For God's sake, believe me, for if you won't be- 
lieve me either, what will become of me? 

Roland. I can help you better if you'll be 
honest with me. A man like Tom Warder isn't 
putting the wife he's been a slave to out of his 
life without good reason. 

\He turns away jrom her. 

Becky. You said you knew the look in my 
face when I lied, because it was your look. [Goes 
to him and stands close, facing him.] Look in 
my face now and tell me what you see there. 
[She speaks very simply and clearly.] I love Tom 
and only Tom and never have loved any other 
man and have never been anything but faithful 
and true in my love for him. [Roland stands 



THE TRUTH I09 

silently looking into her face, still unconvinced.] 
I stand with Tom exactly, father, where you stood 
the day mother left you — 

[His face begins to change. A knock on the 

door Left. 
Mrs. Crespigny. [Outside.] If Mis' Warder 
wants to catch that train, I hear the car coming! 
Becky. [Breathlessly seizing hold of him with 
her two hands.] Father! 

Roland. Mrs. Warder's changed her mind. 
She's stopping here to-night. 

[Putting his arms about her, 
Becky. Father! 

[Her tension gives way, and she lies limp in 
his arms, her slender body shaking with the 
emotion which now masters her as 

THE CURTAIN FALLS 



ACT IV 

Mr. Roland's rooms in Mrs. Crespignys fiat, the 
folhwing Monday. 



ACT IV 

Mr. Roland's rooms in Mrs. Crespigny's jlat, 
the following Monday. The sun pours in 
through the how-window; folded bedclothes and 
a pillow are placed neatly on one end of the sofa. 
Becky and Roland are having coffee together 
at the centre-table. The cloth is soiled, other 
things in the room are in disorder, and everything 
is decidedly unappetizing. Roland is wearing 
a slovenly bathrobe; a newspaper is propped 
against the coffee pot before him. 

Becky. How horrid and messy everything is! 

Roland. [Who is smoking a cigarette as he 
203 



204 THE TRUTH 

eats.\ Oh, you'll get used to it. Before you 

know it you'll like things best this way. 

Becky. Not if I can help it. I shall fight 
against it. 

Roland. You think so now; you've only had 
one day at it. 

Becky. To begin with, my dear father, you 
mustn't come to breakfast with me in that dis- 
gusting bathrobe. 

Roland. If you imagine for a minute I'm 
going to let you come here and upset everything 
to rob me of my comfort, you'll have your hands 
full. 

[Mrs. Crespigny is heard playing a piano 
in a farther room through most oj the scene. 
Her repertoire is varied, and consists of an 
old waltz, a coon song, the ^^ Melody in F,^ and 
*' Waiting at the Church." 



THE TRUTH 205 

Becky. \With an ejfort at a smile.] It will be 
another fight then, father, such as we used to 
have. Only this time I'm stronger by six years' 
life with a splendid character, which will help me 
bring you and [myself up to Tom's level, rather 
than go down with you to this. 

Roland. [To change the subject.] Have you 
written Tom? 

Becky. [Sighing.] A hundred letters, I should 
think. 
Roland. And no answer? 
Becky. No, there isn't time. 
Roland. Yes, he could telegraph. 
Becky. But I didn't send any of the letters. 
Roland. [Looking up from his newspaper.] 
You aren't eating anything. 

Becky. [Rising in disgust, goes and sits in 
Morris chair.] Father, we can't live here, can we ? 



2o6 THE TRUTH 

You must tell Mrs. Crespigny, and I'll find a 

little flat, just for us two — 

Roland. \lrritahly.'\ I knew it would come 
to that! Not satisfied with upsetting Warder's 
existence and your own, you've got to come here 
and upset mine! No, sir! I'll marry Mrs. C. 
before I'll leave here. 

Becky. That's a threat I know you won't 
carry out. I've had two long, long nights to 
think things over. I wish I could die, but I 
know one can't die when one wants to. I know 
sorrow, however heartbreaking, doesn't kill, — 
and I'm so horribly healthy I'll probably live 
forever. I may even have to stand aside and 
see Tom happy with some one else. Well, all 
the same I mean to live exactly as I would if I 
were still with Tom. I'm going to live as if every 
day, every hour, I was expecting him back. I'm 



THE TRUTH 207 

going to live so that if he ever should come back 
to me — I will be ready to go home with him. 

\The music stops for a moment, 
Roland. That's all very well for you, but I 
don't see why I should have to live a life to please 
Tom — just so you can leave me in the lurch when 
he comes back after you. The odds are pretty 
strong against his wanting me to go home with 
him too! I've never ridden yet according to his 
rules, and I don't intend to begin now. 

[Goes to jar table in the bow-window and takes 

a fresh cigarette and changes his paper for 

another, 

Becky. [Rising, takes the bedclothes from the 

sofa.] Don't forget, father, what little money 

we have is mine, so you'll have to live as I wish. 

And in the end I believe you'll thank me. 

[She goes into the bedroom. 



2o8 THE TRUTH 

Roland. But in the beginning I'll damn you, 
and in the end too! I'm too old a leopard to 
change my spots. 

\He makes himselj comfortable in the Morris 
chair, 

Becky. [Coming out of the bedroom.] I'm 
going to try just as hard as I can not to tell even 
little lies, no matter how small, just to see if I 
can't get into the habit of always telling the truth. 
Because he might come back, father, don't you 
think so? Don't you think maybe he'll come 
back? 

Roland. I'm doing my best to make him. 

Becky. [Surprised and eager.] How? 

Roland. Never mind how. I'll tell you if it 
works. 

Becky. [Piling the breakfast dishes on the 
tray.] I hoped he'd answer the note I sent by 



THE TRUTH 209 

Jenks, but he didn't. No; when Tom says a 
thmg, he means it. I*m going out for a little 
while. 

\S}ie places the tray on the table Left. 

Roland. Where? 

Becky. There's a small empty flat two doors 
below here; I'm going to look it over. I think 
it may do for us. 

[She goes into the bedroom. 

Roland. Don't be gone long, because I might 
need you. 

Becky. [In the bedroom.] For what? 

Roland. To help receive Tom! 

Becky. [Coming out quickly.] Father! 

Roland. Don't get your expectations too high, 
but I telegraphed him yesterday to come here. 

[The piano is heard again, but stops during 

Becky's long speech, 
p 



2IO THE TRUTH 

Becky. If he wouldn't come for me, he wouldn't 
come because you asked him. 

Roland. I feel if only you could get face to 
face with him, Becky, especially now when he's 
had time to think things over, to realize calmly, 
away from the heat of anger, that whatever your 
faults might be — 

Becky. [Interrupts eagerly ^ going toward him.] 
Yes, yes — 

Roland. Lack of love for him and faithless- 
ness couldn't be among them. 

Becky. Yes, if I could see him! [She kneels 
on the floor beside him, her arms on the arm of 
the chair.] I feel that if there's left in the bottom 
of his heart — no matter how deep down — just 
a little love for me, if it's only the memory of 
what he once had, wouldn't my own love be some 
sort of a magnet to bring his back? If I could 



THE TRUTH 211 

sit and talk to him, hold his hand, go back over 
our life a little, couldn't I make him see that I 
loved him — and only him, that what I'd 
done had been foolish — wrong not to do as he 
wished — but only that wrong — and that I've 
learned something by this terrible lesson? And 
if I promised to try with all my might and main 
not to lie any more, if I promised I wouldn't be 
discouraged with failure if he wouldn't be, but 
would keep on trying, wouldn't he on his side try 
to have a little confidence again? Wouldn't he 
let me come back into his life just for that trial 
anyway? . . . 

Roland. I think so. A man like Warder 
can't get over loving a woman all in a moment, 
especially if he finds out before it's too late he's 
misjudged her. Wrong as you may have been, 
we know you're not so wrong as he thinks. 



212 THE TRUTH 

Becky. But he won't come. You see you 
haven't heard from him — he won't come. 

\She goes up to the how-window and looks out. 

Roland. I'm a Httle worried myself. I told 
him to telegraph and said it was urgent. 

Becky. How — urgent? 

Roland. Well, my dear, as you say, if I had 
simply said, *'Come and see Becky," of course 
he wouldn't have paid any attention. I had to 
make the telegram so he would come. 

Becky. Yes, but how did you? 

Roland. It was a stroke of genius! I said, 
"Becky is dying. Come at once!" 

Becky. [Going to the sofa and sitting on it.] 
But I'm not dying. He'll find out as soon as he 
gets here. 

Roland. No, he mustn't. My idea was that 
he would think you had tried to kill yourself — 



THE TRUTH 213 

don't you see ? It would rouse his sympathies — 
perhaps some remorse — and he would hurry on. 

{Dropping the paper carelessly on the -fioor^ he 
rises. 

Becky. But he hasn't! 

Roland. He couldn't get here till this morning; 
still, I ought to have had an answer to the tele- 
gram. 

[He goes into the bedroom. 

Becky. [Rises and goes toward the opening.] 
And if he should come? 

Roland. [Coming out oj the bedroom in his 
shirt-sleeves, without the bathrobe.] Well, you 
must be careful not to give me away till you are 
solid with him again. You must be weak and ill 
— just getting over it — the doctor's saved you! 
Anyway, I thought that might bring him. 

Becky. I don't like it. 



214 THE TRUTH 

Roland. [Going back into the bedroom offended.] 
I did my best! 

Becky. But it seems to me as if I would be 
telling Tom a lie again. 

Roland. Not at all. I'm telling it. And 
besides, doesn't the end justify the means? 

Becky. I think Tom'd call it a lie. I don't 
want to do it! 

Roland. Well, if he comes in answer to my 
telegram, you've got to do itl 

Becky. No, father, I won't! 

Roland. Nonsense! You can't get out of it. 
And, good Heavens, why should you, if it's going 
to give you back what you want and prevent a 
terrible upheaval? 

• [The piano is heard again. 

Becky. Well, anyway, he hasn't answered, 
so perhaps he won't come. I'm going out. 



THE TRUTH 215 

\Gets her hat from table Left. 

Roland. Don't be long in any case. He might 
have forgot to send word, or not have time, or 
even have suspected something and not answered 
purposely, and be coming all the same on this 
morning's train ! 

Becky. [Putting on her hat.] I'll see the flat 
and come straight back. [She starts to go, stops 
and turns in the doorway.] Thank you, father, 
for trying to help me. If he only will come ! 

[She goes out Left. 

Roland. [Lighting another cigarette.] Move 
into another flat ! To live with everything so 
filthy clean you can't be easy and let things go ! 
Ta, ta to the bucket-shop, and never a cent to put 
on anything again ! Nothing but cleanth and 
economy! No, no, Stephen Roland, not at your 
age. [He stands gazing at a portrait of Mrs. Cres- 



2i6 THE TRUTH 

PiGNY on the Right wall, with a half- humorous 
expression of resignation, then crosses to the electric 
bell on the Left wall.] Listen, don't you hear 
wedding bells? [He rings the hell.] Do you 
hear them, Stephen ! [He rings again. The 
piano off stage stops.] Wedding bells ! [He turns 
and walks toward the portrait again, nodding his 
head definitely. A knock on the door Left.] Come 
in — Jennie 1 

[Mrs. Crespigny comes in, 

Mrs. Crespigny. Did you ring? 

Roland. I believe I did. 

Mrs. Crespigny. What's the matter? My 
piano-playing disturb Mis' Warder? 

Roland. Oh, — is the pianola mended ? 

Mrs. Crespigny. Yes. The man said I worked 
the pedals too emotionally. 

Roland. I wanted to see vou. 



THE TRUTH 217 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Pulling her belt down and 
her marcel wave out.] Well, I'm visible! 

Roland. Mrs. Crespigny, I'm in trouble. 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Going to him.] Now look 
here, Mr. Roland, true as Gospel I can't let you 
have another cent, not before the first of the 
month. Your daughter's here now; you've got 
to go to her. 

Roland, Not so fast, please! It isn't money. 
At least that isn't this moment's trouble. My 
daughter and her husband have quarrelled. 

Mrs. Crespigny. I suspected something was 
wrong. [She starts, aghast and angry at a new 
idea which comes to her.] She don't mean to come 
here and live? 

Roland. No, she wants to take me away to 
live with her. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Didn't I always tell you 



2i8 THE TRUTH 

she'd separate us if she could! Now show your 
character! I guess you're your own boss, ain't 
you? You won't go, Mr. Roland? 

Roland. But you see if they don't make up 
their quarrel, my allowance stops and I won't 
have a cent. I'll have to live v/here my daughter 
wants me. 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Taking from the bosom of 
her shirt-waist a second-hand natural rose with a 
wired stem, and destitute of green leaves, she twists 
the wired part nervously about.] Why ain't one 
woman's money just as good as another's for 
you to live on? 

Roland. Mrs. Crespigny, you've come straight 
to the point, and you've come pretty bluntly, 
but that's just as well in view of the poor figure 
I cut in the matter. 

[He turns up toward the centre-table and places 



THE TRUTH 219 

on it his newspaper, which he has picked up 
from the floor. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Why, I think, considering 
your age, your figger's great! 

Roland. [Looking at her despairingly.] I spoke 
figuratively! Now I'm doing my best to bring 
about a reconciUation. Of course, if I succeed, 
I can keep on living here just as usual — I'll have 
my allowance. 

Mrs. Crespigny. But if you don't bring about 
the reconciliation? . . . 

Roland. Well, in that case, frankly, I should 
have to leave you or marry you ! 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Going to the table.] Look 
here, Mr. Roland, I want this in black and white ! 
Are you proposing to me? 

Roland. Well, Mrs. Crespigny, in a way — 

Mrs. Crespigny. But there's a string to it? 



220 THE TRUTH 

Roland. You know you have once or twice 
delicately suggested that a marriage wouldn't 
be altogether disagreeable to you, but it's a poor 
bargain for you, and in case the proposal should 
ever be definitely made, I want to be sure you 
know what you're getting! 

Mrs. Crespigny. I guess I know well enough. 
I ain't lived in the same flat with you for four 
solid years without finding out whether or not 
you was worth it to me. I know your faults, 
Mr. Roland, but they're swell faults. 

Roland. \IIe goes to the table in the window 
to get a cigarette.] Mrs. Crespigny, suppose you 
keep to the point, which is, if I marry — if you 
marry me, you do it with your eyes open. I'm 
to have all the liberty I've ever had. None of 
my habits are to be interfered with, none of my 
ways of spending money. 



THE TRUTH 221 

Mrs. Crespigny. All right. I know I won't 
be marrying a hero, but I'll be getting a high- 
toned name and the company I want for keeps, 
for if once we're married, your daughter nor nobody 
else won't sneak you away from me, and you can't 
get nothing in this world for nothing. 

\She sits Right oj the table with a lugubrious 
expression on her poor powdered /ace. 

Roland. Very well, then, [Coming down to her.] 
if there's no reconciliation to-day, we'll consider 
it settled without another word. 

Mrs. Crespigny. And if she does make it up 
with her husband? 

Roland. We'll let that stand for the present. 
I would still have my allowance and I wouldn't 
have to leave the flat. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Then, so far as I'm concerned. 



222 THE TRUTH 

— and I don't make no bones about saying it, — 

I'd rather they kep' separate. 

Roland. Don't be selfish! I think you'll 
win without that. {He lijts her head tenderly^ 
smiling sweetly; then, as he turns away from her 
the sweetness jades, and he looks at least twenty 
years older. Mrs. Crespigny, happy hut em- 
barrassed, tears the jaded rose to pieces petal by 
petal.] I don't understand it. I ought to have 
had a telegram long ago! 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Starts and rises.] A tele- 
gram! My stars! this telegram came before 
you was up and I forgot all about it. 

[Giving him a telegram. 

Roland. That won't do! You'll have to be 
more thoughtful than that! [Reading the tele- 
gram.] He's coming ! He's due here any minute I 



THE TRUTH 223 

And Beck out! Quick! help me make this look 
like a sick room. 
Mrs. Crespigny. A sick room? 
Roland. I'll put this chair here for Becky to 
sit in! 

[Moving the Morris chair near to the table. 
Mrs. Crespigny. And I'll put a towel on the 
table. [Getting one from the bedroom.] But why 
a sick room, Mr. Roland! Who's sick? 

Roland. That's how I got him here. Tele- 
graphed Becky was dying — and it's worked — 
he's coming! 

Mrs. Crespigny. You ought to have some 
bottles for medicine! 

Roland. Bottles? Here's a couple! 

[Getting a whiskey bottle and a brandy bottle 

from the sideboard. 
Mrs. Crespigny. [Taking the bottles jrom 



224 THE TRU^H 

him,] You don't want him to think she's been on 
a spree, do you ? [She puts them on the table Left.] 
Put a glass of water on the table. [He gets a glass 
from the sideboard.] And I'll put this saucer and 
spoon on top — that'll look like homeopathic stuff. 
[She places a saucer on the table and breathes on 
the spoon and polishes it on a corner of table-cloth, 
Roland gets a pillow and a blanket from the bed- 
room and arranges them in the Morris chair.] Do 
you know what we ought to have on that table? 
An orange on a plate! I don't know why it is, 
but it always looks like sick folks, having an 
orange on a plate by 'em! Wait a minute. I've 
got a marble orange just like real. I'll get it. 
I'll take the tray. [Mrs. Crespigny with the tray 
at the door Left.] Josephine ! Josephine ! Oh, 
never mind if your hands are in the suds! [Ro- 
land gets a hassock, which he places in front of 



THE TRUTH 225 

the Morris chair. He pulls down the window-shades ^ 
takes the siphon, and fills the glass on the table, 
putting the saucer and spoon on top of it. Mrs. 
Crespigny enters with an imitation orange on 
a plate.] Here it is ! And I brought a knife with 
it — don't it look natural? 

[The jront hell rings, 
Roland. Becky! 

Mrs. Crespigny. No — I let her take the key ! 

Roland. Maybe it's he! And Becky not 
back ! Don't let Josephine open the door yet ! 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Opens the Left door and 

calls.] Josephine! Josy! I'll tend door; you go 

on with your washing! 

[She shuts the door, 

Roland. Show him here — 

Mrs. Crespigny. Huh, huh? 

Roland. And I'll teii him the doctor's with 

Becky — 



226 THE TRUTH 

Mrs. Crespigny. Huh, huh? 

Roland. Then you watch for her, and when 
she comes, knock on the door and tell me the 
doctor's gone — 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Doubtfully.] Huh, huh — 

Roland. Then I'll go " to find out if she feels 
able to see him," and bring her in as if from her 
bedroom. 

[He goes to the Morris chair and arranges the 
pillow and blanket, 

Mrs. Crespigny. It's lucky I don't have to 
tell him all that! You know, I haven't got your 
— imagination I . . . 

Roland. That's all right — you'll see, — they'll 
be reconciled ! 

[Gets a jan from behind the book-rack on the back 
wall and puts it on the table. 

Mrs. Crespigny. Reconciled! 



THE TRUTH 227 

Roland. Yes, yes, they'll be reconciled! 

Mrs. Crespigny. Our marriage is as good as 
off then ! 

Roland. Yes, yes — I mean we'll see ! \T'he 
jront hell rings again.] Don't keep him waiting — 
he might get suspicious! 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Turning the matter over 
in her mind, speaks very abstractedly.] Our mar- 
riage is as good as off then! 

\She goes out slowly, weighing this sudden com- 
plication in her affairs, 

Roland. Well, you never know your luck ! No, 
no, don't close the door 1 I'll be here, expecting 
him. 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Off stage.] How do you do ? 
Won't you come right in? 

[Warder enters, 

Roland. So you've come, Tom? 



228 THE TRUTH 

Warder, \yery serious.] How is she, father? 

Roland. The doctor is with her now. Mrs. 
Crespigny will let me know when he's gone. I 
haven't let her know I telegraphed you. 

Warder. But will she get well? Is she no 
worse ? 

Roland. We have every hope of her getting 
well 

Warder. [He turns aside to control a sudden 
■flood of emotion.] Thank God ! 

Roland. I think a good deal now depends 
upon you. [Warder jaces Roland. Roland 
goes to him.] Are you ready to take my daughter 
back? 

Warder. [Very quietly , soberly.] Yes. 

Roland. For good? 

Warder. If I can only feel sure Becky will 
try — only try — to be straightforward and honest 



THE TRUTH 229 

with me, that's all I ask. God knows what I've 
suffered these two days, and when your message 
came — oh, to have that on my shoulders too — 
it would have been more than a man could bear ! 

Roland. Whatever Becky's faults may have 
been, you did her one terrible injustice! 

Warder. Yes, I know that now! Becky, 
— never! Father, hour after hour since the one^ 
in which I left her, I've paced up and down my 
room, or sat and gritted my teeth in the train, and 
thought — and thought — and thought — till the 
anger died out of me and I began to see things 
white and clear both ahead and behind me. And 
all the time Becky's final words kept ringing in 
my ears, and they rang true: "I love you, and 
only you, and you always." . . . And the further 
away from the excitement and anger I got, the 
saner I grew. And as I passed over our life to- 



23P THE TRUTH 

gether, second by second of happiness, I found only 
proof after proof of her love for me! Yes, I did 
Becky one great injustice, and I want to ask her 
to forgive me. 

Roland. \JIis better self moved. Takes Tom's 
hand.] Tom — 

Warder. After all, life is made up of com- 
promises and concessions, and if Becky will only 
try, and let me help her — 

Roland. I believe you love her still? 

Warder. I can only answer you by saying that 
I want more than anything else in the world to 
beheve in her again — to have at least the begin- 
ning of confidence. 

[With a knock on the door, Mrs. Crespigny 
comes in, frightened at what she is going to do. 
Roland hesitates one moment, hut his old 
habit soon reasserts itself. 



THE TRUTH 231 

Roland. The doctor gone? [Mrs. Cres- 
PiGNY nods her head.] Excuse me. 

[He hurries out Left. Mrs. Crespigny stands 
looking after Roland, evidently trying to 
nerve herself up to the task of telling Warder 
the truth. She makes several ineffectual gasp- 
ing efforts to s peaky and finally gets started, 
rushing her words and not daring to speak 
slowly for fear she'd stop. 
Mrs. Crespigny. I'm going to do something 
awful, and I only hope I won't be punished for it 
all the rest of my life. Lord knows, seems as if Vd 
been punished enough in advance. Can I trust 
you? 

Warder. In what way? 

Mrs. Crespigny. As a gentleman. If I tell 
you something — something that you ought to 



232 THE TRUTH 

know — will you promise to see it through and 

not let on I told you? 

Warder. I don't know if I can promise that. 
Is it anything you have a right to tell me ? 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Going toward him.] It won't 
do you no harm to pertect me, and I give you my 
sacred word of honor it's the truth instead of the lie 
you've been told ! And all I ask is that you'll per- 
tect me as regards Mr. Roland. 

Warder. [Astomided, bewilderedy but his sus- 
picions rearroused.] What lie? Goon. I give you 
the promise ! 

Mrs. Crespigny. [Whispers.] She ain't sick! 

Warder. Who? 

Mrs. Crespigny. Mis' Warder! She ain't 
been sick — that was all a story to get you 
here! 

Warder. [Catching her two hands by the wrists 



THE TRUTH 233 

and holding them tight, so she canH get away from 
him,] No ! don't say that ! 

Mrs. Crespigny. Ssh ! I will say it ! It's true ! 
The doctor wasn't here when you came! Mis* 
Warder was out and only came in when I knocked 
on the door just now ! 
Warder. Do you realize what you're saying? 
Mrs. Crespigny. Perfeckly! 
Warder. And you're telling me the truth? 
Mrs. Crespigny. Keep your eyes open and 
judge for yourself, that's all! Maybe you think 
that's the truth ! 

[Snatching up the imitation orange from the 

table, she smashes it on the floor. Warder 

moves to go; she stands in front of the door to 

stop him. 

Warder. Let me go! I won't stay for this 

brutal farce ! 



234 THE TRUTH 

Mrs. Crespigny. You promised to pertect me, 
and if you go now Mr. Roland'll catch on, and I 
want him to marry me ! Now you know — 
Warder. Was this his idea or hers? 
Mrs. Crespigny. His, and she — 

\Listens. 
Warder. ^Eagerly.^ She what — 
Mrs. Crespigny. [Moving away from the door.] 
Ssh ! they're here ! 

[Warder controls himself and goes to the other 
side of the room. Roland comes, bringing 
Becky, who leans on him. Her eyes are down. 
Warder stands immovable and watches. 
Roland. [Pointedly,] Thank you, Mrs. Cres- 
pigny. 

[She goes out unwillingly. Becky looks up and 
sees Warder. He stands motionless, watch- 
ing her. 



THE TRUTH 235 

Becky. \As she meets Warder's eyes, breaks 
away jrom Roland.] No, father ! I can't do it ! 
I won't do it! 
Roland. [Frightened.] Becky! 
Becky. No ! I tell you it's only another lie and 
a revolting one ! 

Roland. You're ill! You don't know what 
you're saying! 

Becky. No, I'm not ill, and you know it, and I 
haven't been ! And if I can't win his love back by 
the truth, I'll never be able to keep it, so what's 
the use of getting it back at all? 

[The tears fill her eyes and her throat. 
Warder. Becky! 

[He wants to go to her, but still holds himself 
back. His face shows his joy, but neither 
Becky nor Roland see this. 
Becky. [Continues after a moment ^ pathetically.] 



236 THE TRUTH 

I thought I might creep back, through pity, first 
into your life, and'then into your heart again. But, 
after all, I can't do it. \She sits in the Morris 
chair, hopelessly.] Something's happened to me 
in these two days — even if I tell lies, I've learned 
to loathe them and be afraid of them, and all the 
rest of my life I'll try — 
Warder. [In a choked voice.] Thank God! 
[He goes to her, almost in tears himself, Ro- 
land looks at Warder, and realizes what it 
means; a smile comes over his own face, and 
at the same time his eyes fill with his almost^ 
forgotten tears, 
Becky. You can't forgive me! 
Warder. We don't love people because they 
are perfect. 
[He takes her two trembling hands in his, and 
she rises. 



THE TRUTH 237 

Becky. Tom! 

Warder. We love them because they are them- 
selves. 
\And he takes her In his arms close to him, as the 
final 

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